


Riptide

by EmberMahariel



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberMahariel/pseuds/EmberMahariel
Summary: Commander Rhys Phoenix Shepard swore off all things regarding love. After meeting Thane, though, all of that goes out the window. This is her story of love, loss, and everything in between.





	Riptide

**Author's Note:**

> Major, major credit to Wonder Woman for her beautiful artwork that goes along with this story! Link to the masterpost: http://alessandradc.deviantart.com/art/Riptide-699563612
> 
> This has been such a fun, challenging thing, and I'm so glad I was able to be a part of it. I hope you readers enjoy the story!

PART I

 

Rhys isn’t altogether sure why she is so ready to jump to the defense of the drell; Jacob has a point, if only a small one. Assassins are usually the last people one would want to trust. Something about Thane, though, intrigues and fascinates Shepard. As the drell stands in the briefing room in a disciplinary stance, coolly defending his honor while maintaining civility, Rhys makes a note to get to know the drell more personally.

Thane leaves the briefing room to settle in for the night, Shepard and Jacob remain.

“What the hell was that, Taylor?” Shepard demands.

“Commander?” The operative looks at her inquisitively.

“I run a fairly loose ship compared to other military personnel. I tolerate much more than my peers would in most circumstances. That said, when one member of my crew starts to second-guess my orders, my decisions, that’s when I’m really tempted to not let so much slide.” Rhys folds her arms in

Jacob’s direction, and he mimics the action.

“All due respect, ma’am, you’re not military anymore.”

The urge to slap Jacob for such a remark swells in Rhys’ chest. The commander takes a deep breath, swallowing the temptation.

“That doesn’t mean my ship isn’t run like a military ship.” Jacob nods, his eyes cast to the floor. “Do not second-guess my choices in regards to recruiting, Taylor, or you’ll find yourself in the position of finding other employment. Do I make myself clear?” Rhys is surprised at her words; Taylor could be a nuisance more often than not, but it seemed almost cruel to speak to him with such disdain.

“Yes, ma’am!” Jacob salutes. Rhys looks him over before grabbing her datapad, heading to fill out a report on Thane’s recruitment.

 

           

A couple hours later, Rhys goes to find Garrus at the main battery. The two don’t often converse, but it’s comforting for Rhys to be in the company of an old friend.

“So, the drell is staying, huh?” Garrus says over the screen at which he is doing his infamous calibrations.

“Yeah.” Rhys allows some disgruntlement slip into her curt reply--she isn’t ready to have this discussion again.

Garrus stands upright, stepping away from his task. “You good, Shep?”

Rhys’ lips tilt at the nickname. Though being known solely by her last name gets on her nerves once in a while, ‘Shep’ is a nickname she finds endearing. “Yeah. Just sick of filling out reports.” She chuckles. “And Taylor.” She draws a hand over her face, exasperated.

Garrus walks toward her, leaning against the wall leisurely. “Taylor? What happened?”

Rhys explains the situation, relieved to have Garrus as a confidant. He listens intently until Rhys finishes her griping, as many of  her military comrades would have called it. The turian steps to his friend, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Shepard, you’ve saved the galaxy once already, you’re in the midst of saving it again. You died, came back, saved me from certain death…” He trails off, and Rhys tilts her face to him.  “I’m not trying to feed your ego or anything, but I’ve been travelling with you long enough that if you decide to bring a drell assassin into the fold, I’ll trust you to know what's best.” Rhys stands, pulling Garrus into a hug.

“Thanks, Garrus.” The commander mutters.

“Not a problem. I should get back to work, but if you need another pep talk, you know where to find me.”

Rhys nods before stepping out of the battery. She heaves a sigh, feeling better about the situation.

_This is why I keep Garrus around._ Shepard thinks to herself.

The commanding officer roams the crew deck of her ship, greeting her crew as she goes along. Eventually, Rhys is standing in front of the Life Support deck.

Butterflies swarm in Shepard’s belly, and she places a hand to her stomach to calm them. Taking a deep breath, Rhys presses the control to open the door.

Thane is setting up his cot, his guns already stored. Shepard watches his hands for a moment, noticing the deft way they work the cot’s mechanisms. Rhys is struck with the thought that just a few hours ago, his deft hands were performing a task much less mundane. Rhys clears her throat, and Thane stands quickly, straightening the collar of his coat before clasping his hands behind his back.

“Shepard?” Thane blinks. “Is there something you need?”

The words catch in her throat-- apparently Shepard’s heart jumped to her neck, not allowing her to speak. She gulps, and words fall from her lips like a deluge.

“I was just making rounds to check on the crew, then I found myself in front of your door here and I--” she interrupts herself to take a breath. “I just thought I’d make sure you are comfortable.”

Thane stifles a grin. “Yes, Shepard, I am very comfortable. Thank you.”

Rhys smiles at the drell before walking to the shelf where his guns lay. Sniper rifles and pistols are aligned with perfect precision. Various knives rest side by side, their blades glinting in the light emitted by the engine core. “Which is your favorite?”The commander asks, curiosity genuine.

Thane steps to her side, and Shepard notices the silence of his step. The soft scent of leather and overheated thermal clips tickles her nostrils.

With the tenderness of a father, Thane lifts a sniper rifle from its place on the shelf. “This one.” He says simply.

Rhys admires the gun, the way Thane handles it.

“Why?” She glances at him over the rifle. The corner of his mouth tilts upward as his dark eyes engulf her.

“Here.” He places the gun into her hands. The rifle is foreign in the hands of the vanguard-- she is acclimated to shotguns, submachine guns, and pistols. Rifles are uncharted territory. “When handled properly, this rifle will breathe with you,” Thane explains. “The mechanisms are fitted and tuned to execute with the utmost accuracy.”

Rhys has to applaud Thane; the rifle is much heavier than she expected. “I’m sure it’s great, but I don’t work with sniper rifles. I prefer close combat with my biotics and shotgun.” She laughs nervously as the drell takes the rifle from her inexperienced hands.

“Would you like to learn?” He asks, replacing his esteemed weapon.

“How to snipe?” Rhys sounds more incredulous than she liked--she doesn’t want to come across as aloof.

“To put it simply. It is a valuable skill that might pay off one day.” Thane bows his head, but his eyes never leave hers.

Rhys’ butterflies return with vivacity. Her heart makes another attempt to leap into her throat, but Rhys is able to curb the action. “I… I would love to learn… if you… I mean… if you would be teaching me…” She chastises herself for stuttering. Thane doesn’t seem to care.

“It would be my honor, Shepard.” Thane bows his head again.

The pair share another glance, neither sure what to say. Rhys speaks first.

“I’m sorry about Jacob. He can be…” Rhys struggles to find the right word. “Difficult. I didn’t know he was going to insinuate the things he did.”

Thane looks away, folding his arms behind his back. “I understand his reluctance. I do not agree that an assassin is just a ‘precise mercenary’; it is a far more complex line of work than what he interprets, but I do understand the lack of trust.” He pauses, then turns to face Rhys. “I want you to know that I am with you. I will do everything I can to assist you in your cause. I do not have much time left, but I will dedicate it all to the success of your mission. You have my word.” Thane reaches his hand out, and Rhys shakes his hand, making a note of how her heart skips a beat when their skin meets.

Another lull in conversation settles over the duo, and again, Rhys speaks. “I should be going; it’s pretty late. Thank you for the conversation.” She smiles.

“Of course,” comes Thane’s reply, accompanied by a bow.

“Good night, Thane.” Rhys leaves the deck, and returns to her cabin for the night. Throughout her nighttime routine, Rhys allows her mind to dwell on the day’s events, and upon Thane. She is surprised at herself for allowing her fascination to grow. Then she thinks it’s more than fascination, but _attraction_ that intrigues her so. Rhys spits out her toothpaste at the thought. She stares into her reflection, quickly coming to terms with her sudden realization.

_Just take it slow, Rhys. We all know what happened last time you rushed into something like this._

Memories of Kaidan swarm her mind. Stepping back to her cabin, she picks up the portrait of Kaidan that the Illusive Man had left for her.

_Creep._ Rhys thinks toward the Illusive Man. And partially to Kaidan--he was quite heinous toward her on Horizon, despite the circumstances of their reunion.

Rhys takes the portrait and places it face-down on the desk. A few of the butterflies remaining in her stomach give her the idea that a different portrait of a different kind of man may decorate her cabin one day.

 

PART II

A few days after Shepard and Jacob had their encounter with each other in regards to Thane’s recruitment, Jacob asks for help.

“When exactly did this happen?” Rhys asks, incredulity lilting her voice. Jacob sighs.

“Almost ten years ago. Little less than. I know it sounds fishy, and that’s why I’m asking for your help. If we can’t check it out, fine, I just thought there wouldn’t be harm in asking.”

Rhys shakes her head. “I doubt we’ll find anything, but everything is at a lull for the moment, so let’s go hunt some ghosts.” She pushes herself from the wall on which she had been leaning.

Following her actions immediately, Jacob stands at attention, putting his hand to his brow in a firm salute. “Yes, Commander! Thank you, Commander!”

Rhys glances at him. “At ease. We’re not Alliance, remember?” she does nothing to mask the bitterness in her voice; her heart still stings from Jacob’s reminder a few days prior. Rhys shakes her head again before leaving the armory.

The commander watches her crew busy themselves with various tasks, and her heart swells with pride. These people are all here to assist her with her mission, and she is so grateful for each one of them.

Nodding to Yeoman Kelly Chambers, Rhys makes her way to the cockpit, resting an arm on Joker Moreau’s chair.

“Hey, stranger,” Rhys greets him cordially, and Joker glances up at her in response. “Is everything good up here?”

Joker allows a glare to darken his features for a moment. “Shepard. This AI is _killing_ me. I can’t do my reports the same way, I can’t personalize my work space, hell, I can’t even adjust my chair!”

Rhys gives a small smile in reply before EDI shares her thoughts, if one could call them such.

“Mr. Moreau, I assure you that my actions are driven by my programming to ensure the Normandy is running as smoothly and efficiently as possible. It is nothing personal.”

Joker scoffs before turning his gaze back to Shepard.

“What do you need, Commander?”

“Set a course for Aeia.” Her reply is curt.

“Aeia? Is there new intel?” Joker’s brow furrows.

“On the contrary. Old bones that need burial.” Rhys shifts her weight, folding her arms in front of her chest. Joker raises a brow in response, but doesn’t say anything more. “For Taylor.” Rhys elaborates.

Joker knowingly tilts his head back. “I see. Course is set. We will be there in a couple hours.”

“Thanks, Joker.” Rhys claps the back of his chair, then leaves the cockpit.

Chambers informs Shepard of the unread messages at her terminal. With a wave of her hand, Shepard dismisses the notice. Her faithful Yeoman eyes Rhys as she boards the elevator.

“Thank you, Kelly--I’ll read the messages in my cabin.” The bubbly blonde smiles at Rhys before returning to her terminal.

As the elevator drops, the seasoned soldier feels nervousness simmering inside of her. The thought of seeing Thane lights something within her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time, and it simultaneously excites and terrifies her.

She jumps as the elevator doors slide open, and she stares at the wall for a moment, gathering her composure, calming her rapid heartbeat.

Thane opens the door to Life Support after Rhys’ knock. The drell looks pleasantly surprised to see the commander, albeit caught off guard by her sudden appearance.

“Shepard? Is everything alright?” Thane pulls his jacket around himself tightly, if only to give his hands something to do besides fidget. Rhys smiles, stepping further into Life Support.

“Everything is fine, Thane. I just wanted to tell you to gear up; we’re landing on Aeia in about two hours, and I want you to be on the ground with Taylor and myself.” Rhys is surprised at how easy it is to fall into the rhythm of conversation with Thane once the initial nervousness is gone.  

He nods, almost in contemplation. “Are the Collectors on Aeia?”

Rhys shakes her head. “No. Jacob has something he needs to take care of, and I want to give you a chance to integrate with the team, as it were.” Rhys chuckles.

“What kind of mission? What should I be prepared for?” Thane asks. Rhys sweeps an arm to the shelves where Thane’s weapons rest.

“Be prepared for anything. I have no idea what we’re going to find out there.” She pauses before continuing. “Meet in the shuttle bay in an hour and thirty minutes, then we’ll do this.” Thane bows his head, then turns to his arsenal. Rhys leaves Life Support to make her own preparations.

When Rhys gets to her cabin, she walks to her fish tank to feed her aquatic pets. When she can’t see any of them, though, she looks to the top of the tank.

All fishy friends are present, but in body only.

“Damn.” Rhys chastises. “I was doing so well this time.” She sadly presses the control that clears the tank, and walks to her hamster’s cage on her desk. Coaxing the rodent to crawl onto her hand, she speaks to him lovingly.

“Agamemnon, I’m so glad you’re made of sturdier stuff than those fish.”

He squeaks in reply, his nose wiggling.

Rhys places a kiss to the top of his head, places him on her desk so she can clean the cage, then replaces him.

“Stay alive, Agamemnon.”

Another squeak.

Rhys goes to her armor locker, gearing up for the adventure.

 

When the shuttle lands on Aeia, the trio disembarks, emotions running rampant; Jacob is fearful of what he is going to find here, Rhys is disgruntled that they are even here in the first place, and Thane is excited. He is excited to see the infamous Commander Shepard in action, and to be a part of her team.

Weapons armed and at the ready, Jacob, Thane, and Rhys march forward. When they reach the wreckage, Rhys finds herself in disbelief; the Gernsback is much larger than she anticipated.

“Shepard,” Thane’s voice brings her out of her stupor. When she looks toward him, he is standing in front of a broken terminal. When Shepard tries to access the audio logs, recordings sputter from the terminal, nothing coherent leaving the speakers.

“...Toxicology report. Warning! Danger of rapid neural decay… Ingesting natural flora…” The beacon goes on, mentioning the possible side effects of ingesting Aeia’s plants. Rhys and Jacob share a glance.

“I doubt there were 10 years’ worth of provisions on the ship,” Thane observes, “I don’t think the crew would have made it.”

Rhys nods. “I think you’re right, Thane. We don’t know much of anything right now, though, so best to not jump to conclusions.”

“But how does my father fit into all this?” Jacob says this more to himself than anything.

Almost as if it had been listening, the beacon speaks up.

“Override put into effect by Captain Ronald Taylor…” And so the beacon rambles.

Rhys and Thane simultaneously turn to Jacob. “Does that answer your question?” Rhys inquires.

Jacob gives a solemn nod before speaking. “But that doesn’t make sense. My father was First Officer, not Captain.”

“Captain Fairchild was killed, thus Ronald Taylor was promoted to Acting Captain.” The VI sputters.

“How did Captain Fairchild die?” Jacob demands.

The VI pauses. “Unknown.”

Jacob groans. “Shepard, let’s move on. I’m sick of this.” Saying nothing else, he marches forward, Rhys and Thane following.

“What do you think about all this?” Rhys asks her assassin companion. He adjusts the grip on his rifle before answering.

“I think digging through old history has unrequited consequences.” Rhys nods. “Revisiting the past has only ever brought turmoil.” Thane’s lips pull into a pucker while he clearly ruminates over something. After a lengthy, slightly awkward pause, Rhys responds.

“I agree, you know. There’s a reason I haven’t returned to Mindoir or Akuze; too many graves occupied, one of which I should be in, but…” she shrugs. “Here I am.” A nervous chuckle escapes her lips.

“Indeed. Here you are.” Thane’s voice has dropped, and the tone is melancholy.

Rhys’ lips part to inquire of his well-being, but a panicked, disheveled woman runs to them before a word can get through.

“You come! The sky! To take us _home?_ ” Her words are rough, cubic-sounding. “Words… difficult. You come to take us home?” Though she is a grown woman, she has the innocence of a child.

“Is this the neural decay the VI mentioned?” Jacob wonders.

“It’s very likely.” Rhys says nothing more.

As the girl tries to speak more, Rhys notices a group of men about forty paces in front of them, arming their guns, aiming them at the woman.

“Get down!” Rhys yells, pulling the woman behind some crates. The cover isn’t ideal, but will suffice until the gunfire ceases.

Thane and Jacob drop behind cover as well, and Rhys watches Thane for a moment, the way he uses the crates as a perch for his rifle. He quickly but meticulously lines up a shot, takes a breath, and squeezes the trigger upon his exhalation. Rhys visually follows the trajectory, and it lands perfectly. Rhys raises her brows, surprised and impressed.

“Stay here.” Rhys commands the woman crouching next to her. Standing from cover, Rhys visually finds and puts a lock on her target.

Taking a deep breath, Rhys feels her biotics swelling and electrifying inside of her. She allows the energy to surge, charging her forward. The impact lands perfectly, and her target is killed on contact. She swings her pistol around, making two shots that bring two more enemies down. Sensing another enemy behind her, she turns, uses her biotics to suspend the opponent in mid-air, then uses her pistol to end the threat. Rhys scans the area around her, looking for anymore adversaries. Finding none, she holsters her gun, and walks back to Jacob and Thane.

“Are you alright?” She asks them respectively. Jacob nods, Thane affirms, and the woman thanks them for stopping the ‘bad men.’ “Good, let’s move on.”

As Rhys moves forward, Thane is the one to watch; she had taken down multiple enemies without much effort. He is admittedly in awe, fascinated by everything about her.

 

Rhys and Jacob are both mutually disgusted at Ronald Taylor’s actions; their journey deeper into Aeia’s landscape revealed that Jacob’s father had allowed his crew to eat the poisonous food-- he wanted to remain lucid in order to rule over them. When backlash started to occur, that’s when the elder Taylor decided to activate the distress beacon.

Back on the Normandy, it is discovered that it was Miranda who gave Jacob the information about his father, and this led Rhys to distrust her even more. Still, Rhys is glad to have put the journey behind them to move things forward.

After making sure that Jacob is alright in spite of the day’s events, Rhys makes her way to the crew deck, finding herself in front of Life Support, though the nervousness is nonexistent. She knocks, and Thane opens the door.

“Ah, Shepard. I was just settling in after the day’s events. Would you like to come in?” Thane smiles at her, and Rhys returns the expression.

“Thanks. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright; it was grueling out there today. That mech was some serious business.” Rhys sits at the table, and Thane settles in the chair across from her. “It looked like you almost went down a couple times. Is everything alright?”

Thane nods. “As I told you when we met, I’m dying. I am not as full of life as I once was.” He clears his throat. “But there is no need to worry, Shepard.”

Rhys leans forward. “Thane, what exactly is going on? How are you dying?”

Thane folds his hands. He explains the disease to Rhys as clearly as possible, but the reasoning behind his disease seems perfectly avoidable to Rhys.

“Why don’t the drell just leave Kahje? That would save a lot of lives, don’t you think?”

“Of course it would, but the hanar saved my people from certain death. Remaining on Kahje to serve the hanar is the least we could do to thank them for saving us from extinction.”

Rhys shakes her head. “Maybe the first generation that was saved. Maybe the generation after that. The hanar saved your people 300 years ago, Thane. I think the debt is fulfilled, don’t you?”

Thane sighs. “It has become less of a debt, more of a lifestyle. Any drell may refuse to serve, we are not slaves to the hanar by any means, but few refuse because it is considered an honor to be asked.”

“You were asked to serve as an assassin, then, weren’t you?” Rhys speculates.

“Yes. The hanar began honing those skills within me when I was six years old.”

Rhys’ jaw drops. “You have been killing since you were six?!”

“Of course not. The first six years was training and conditioning. I didn’t make my first kill until I was twelve.”

Rhys scoffs. “Twelve. I didn’t kill until I was going through my N7 training at 20.”

“But you were not trained to kill as your life’s work.” Thane observes.

“This is true. I was going to stay on Mindoir my entire life, take over my family’s farm, marry Alistair, have a few kids. I had it all planned out.” Rhys looks away from Thane, choosing to cast her eyes to her hands.

Thane pauses before he says anything. “What happened, Shepard?”

Rhys looks back at him, noticing the genuine compassion in his eyes. “It’s kind of a sob story. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

He nods. “I will listen. If you don’t want to indulge such sensitive information, I understand. I would just like to know more about you.”

Rhys adjusts in her seat, finding a more comfortable position. She heaves a sigh before telling the tale. “I was sixteen. I loved my family with my whole heart, I was crazy about another farmer’s boy, Alistair. He planned to marry me. We were so young and naive, but we were madly in love. The day the raid happened, my mother was preparing to make a few loaves of bread for us and our neighbors, my father was out tending the crops with Alistair, and I was helping my mother in the kitchen. Someone told us about the smoke coming from the other villages, and my father immediately went with a group of men to lend a hand. My mom and I stepped out from our apartment, and we saw the batarians coming up over the ridge. My parents were kind of the backbone of our community; if anyone needed help of any kind, they would come to my family. Because of this, they became the voice of our colony, in a sense. So when my mom saw the batarians on the ridge, she went to introduce herself, and find out what was going on. I was too far away to hear what she said, but I heard the gunshot, and watched her fall.

“Alistair was right there, and he held me back from running to my dead mother. The batarian that killed her looked directly at me, and noticing our resemblance, started walking toward me, the same intention more than likely in his mind. Alistair took me back home, then told me to stay while he went to get his mother. I cowered in the corner of the kitchen, sobbing as I looked at the counter that had the bread dough that still needed baking. I pictured my mom working the dough with her hands, and started crying even more.

“Alistair came back for me with his mother, and the three of us ran from the village. When we got to the outskirts, the batarians were in the village, lighting everything on fire, killing more people than they were capturing. The three of us stood behind a hedge, watched, and waited. One of the slaves saw us, and began walking toward our hiding spot. Alistair’s mother turned and kissed him, tears in her eyes, told me to take care of him, then ran from the hedge, screaming and flailing, drawing attention away from us. She was killed.

“Hand in hand, Alistair and I ran through the trees that formed a small forest. I remember we ran between the tree trunks in a slalom, thinking that doing so would increase our chances of survival. Once we were enveloped in trees, we stopped, hiding behind one of the trunks. Alistair kissed me, told me he loved me, and to never forget that. He leaned to look around the side of the tree, trying to see if we had been followed. The bullet was through his head before I even knew what happened. He had been holding my hand, and when he fell, the impact yanked my fingers. I used my free hand to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t scream.

“I remember thinking I needed to stand as still as possible so that I wouldn’t be found, to keep myself safe. Then I thought that with everyone I loved dead or dying, maybe dying by sniper rifle would be best. I sank to the ground, tears streaming down my face. I knew that Alistair and my parents would insist that I go on, that I live. I knew I had to do everything I could to make it out of there alive.

“I stayed by that tree for a long while. I was so still my limbs went numb. I hadn’t let go of Alistair’s hand, so his fingers were really stiff in mine. I listened as closely as I could to anything around me. I didn’t hear anything, not even the fire from the village. I slid from behind the tree, and rolled Alistair’s body over. He stared straight up to the sky, but his eyes weren’t the same. The hole in his forehead was larger than I had expected, and it was like an eerie third eye. He had dirt on his cheeks from the soil, so I brushed it off, closed his eyes, I kissed his lips one last time, then started walking.

“When I got to my village, there was only carnage. Buildings were reduced to ash, blood painted the landscape, bodies were everywhere. I went to where my home used to be, but there was nothing there. I looked through the ash to find a memento to take with me, but there wasn’t anything to salvage. I saw my mom’s body on the horizon, and I went to her. She had been wearing her favorite white linen dress, and it was stained with all of her blood. I knelt beside her, running my hand over her hair that was red like mine. Her hair was matted with blood. I remember I took her hand, apologizing through my tears, even though I knew none of it was my fault. I kissed her hand, and her wedding ring rubbed my cheek. I managed to remove it, as I wanted some reminder of my mom. I didn’t put it on, I just kept it in my hand.

“I stood and said another goodbye, then started walking. I don’t know how long or how far I walked, but by the time the Alliance vessel picked me up, my feet were bloody and raw. The soldiers kept asking me if I was okay. I tried to tell them that the blood wasn’t mine, but I don’t think any words came out. They took me to the med bay, had me evaluated, then sent me to a spare cot to rest. The next few days are hazy, I don’t really remember them. But that’s what happened. I joined the Alliance two years later.” Rhys stares at the table, knowing that if she looks at Thane, she could cry, and she didn’t want to seem so vulnerable at this point yet.

Thane reaches for her hand. His skin is warm against hers. “I am so sorry, Rhys.” The use of her first name catches her off guard. She finds the courage to look at him, and his expressive face nearly brings her to tears. It had been a long time since she relived those memories. “I, too, know incredible loss. I truly admire your strength for going through something like that, and coming out alive.”

 Rhys takes a deep breath. “Thank you. It was more for my family than anything. I knew that they wouldn’t want me to give up so quickly.” She takes a moment to remember one of her father’s favorite poems. “‘Do not go gentle into that good night./ Old age should burn and rage at close of day./ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.’”

Thane looks at her inquisitively. “A poem?”

“Yes, one of my father’s favorites. I am reminded of it often. On Akuze, when I died… ” She trails off, and Thane allows a moment of silence before speaking.

“It is a beautiful poem, Shepard. Thank you for sharing.” He smiles.

“Of course.” Rhys smiles in return. There is a pause. “I’ll let you go back to settling in for the night. Thank you for being a part of this team. You’re indispensable, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you.” Rhys stands from the table, straightening her tunic. “Thank you again for listening, Thane. I appreciate your company.”

The commander leaves the drell in Life Support, and he replays her story through his mind. Her loss was clearly crushing for her, but she overcame the struggles and now fights to protect the galaxy. His memory flashes to those sunset eyes in his scope all those years ago, how she was so willing to jump in front of an assassin to save someone. Thane begins to think that Irikah isn’t the only _Siha_ he has encountered in his life. Something sparks in his heart, and he isn’t altogether sure what to think of it, but he rather likes the feeling. He begins to wonder if Rhys feels the same.

Back in her cabin, Rhys has Agamemnon in her hands, letting him crawl over her skin. She sighs heavily, trying to contain the memories and pain that goes with them. It had been years since she relived that fateful day from so long ago. Come to think of it, she couldn’t think of the last time she mentioned Alistair. She thinks upon Thane’s face throughout her tale, how he listened so intently, how he didn’t feel the need to justify any of her actions or lack thereof. His pure acceptance of her in the midst of everything she had been through shocked her.

She replaces Agamemnon back in his cage, and begins her nighttime routine, but is interrupted by Yeoman Chambers on her comm.

“Commander?” The yeoman sounds nervous.

“Yes, Kelly?”

Chambers clears her throat. “Um, Zaeed needs to speak with you. He’s being rather insistent.”

Rhys sighs again, remembering Zaeed’s request to go to Zorya a few weeks ago. “I’ll be right there. Tell him to meet me in Engineering.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chambers affirms, then static comes over the comm, signifying the page’s end.

Rhys leaves the cabin, going to the engineering deck. She walks to Zaeed’s room, and he’s cleaning Jesse, his most esteemed gun. “You needed to talk about something, Zaeed?”

The jaded mercenary nods. “Yeah. You said we would go to Zorya. I’ve been here for weeks, and we haven’t gone yet. What the hell is going on, Shepard?” He sounds gruff, angry, just in an all-around bad mood.

“I know, I’m sorry. I can have Joker set a course for Zorya first thing in the morning. Is that alright?” Rhys folds her arms.

Zaeed looks her over before answering. “Better that than never.”

Rhys gives a nod. “Thanks, Zaeed. We’ll take care of those refinery workers. Don’t worry.” She gives a small smile, then returns to her cabin for the night, exhausted from the day’s events.   
  
  
PART III

            Thane, Rhys, and Zaeed walk into the gatehouse, receiving a less-than-warm welcome from Vido and the Blue Suns. Through impulsivity, driven by vengeance, Zaeed sets the refinery to flames. Shocked and disgruntled, Rhys asks Zaeed what the hell he thinks he is doing, and the jaded mercenary offers a curt reply.

Now, all of the refinery workers are in danger of dying by fire, but Rhys is determined to save them. The trio moves beyond the gatehouse, fighting through bands of mercs all the way. Following Vido’s footsteps, Rhys, Thane, and Zaeed hear a desperate worker screaming for help. Zaeed insists the workers die. Rhys cannot allow that to happen.

“Zaeed, these workers are the reason we’re here in the first place. We are here to free them, remember? I’m saving them, whether you like it or not.”

Rhys vaults over the balcony, instantly feeling the heat of the surrounding flames. Thane is ready to follow her, but Rhys stops him.

“Thane, your Kepral’s Syndrome is bad enough; the smoke and soot would only make it worse. You’re staying back until I can get this fire out.”

The drell who is capturing Shepard’s attention more every day gives a nod in response, turning his back to her, ready to defend her against opposition.

Zaeed is next to Rhys in an instant, but she insists he stay back, too, to cover her until she frees the workers. With reluctance, frustration, and daresay anger, Zaeed agrees, arming his rifle quickly, with indignation.

Rhys turns toward the heat, lifting her hand in front of her face in an attempt to shield herself from the blaze. She makes her way through the refinery dressed in elegant inferno, lifting pieces of debris along the way. Smoke burns her lungs, stings her eyes, each breath and blink a million knives into her body. Still, she will not be responsible for the loss of these lives. Rhys is hellbent to save them, unlike the way she was unable to save her fellow villagers; their memory haunts her moreso since reliving those moments with Thane the night previous.

With great difficulty, sustaining damage to her armor along the way, Rhys is able to redirect the fuel, granting her access to some of the extinguishing systems. Of course, while Rhys is walking toward the extinguishing systems, there is an explosion, and fire licks at her face.

Its tongues are blades, tearing at her flesh with each contact. The vanguard fumbles backward, the flames clinging to her cheek, neck, and hair.

Profanities fall from her lips as she slaps at her face, trying to extinguish the inferno on her skin. She is able to, but Rhys can feel that her face is badly burned, and will more than likely scar.

“Damn it.” Rhys looks at the palm of her hand, noticing blood and blackened skin on her glove. For the moment, Rhys shrugs, focusing on the task at hand. She needs to save these workers, and she will-- or die trying.

Rhys finally gets the fire out, her face stinging all the way, and goes to find Vido.

“Zaeed, Thane, do you copy?” The Commander radios to her squad, taking cover behind some industrial equipment.

“Yes, _Si_ \--Shepard,” Thane comes over her comm, somehow missing her last name. Rhys makes a note to ask of it later. “We copy.”  
            “Good. The fire is out, I could use your help in taking down some Blue Suns mercs.” Rhys flinches from a gunshot that had come dangerously close to her head. She peeks from cover, and shoots the perpetrator down.

Thane and Zaeed rush to her, and slide into cover next to their commander.

“Thanks for joining the party, boys.” Rhys remarks, a smirk twisting her lips. She winces with the pain from her burns. The three take down the mercenaries, and Zaeed chases after Vido. When Vido is in the gunship, clearly escaping, Zaeed blames Shepard. He turns to her angrily, training his gun squarely over her heart. It is only then that the seasoned merc notices her burns.

“What the hell happened, Shepard?” Zaeed asks.

Rhys stares at him with something close to disdain. In a way, Zaeed’s actions are to blame for her burns. Still, after hearing that Vido had his men shoot Zaeed in the head, she understands the need for vengeance.

“Something exploded in the refinery, and the fire caught my skin. I’m pretty sure a piece of sheet metal sliced my cheek open, too, but I’m not too worried about it. Let’s just get out of here.”

Thane watches the exchange, ready to take action against Zaeed if that is what he needs to do to protect Shepard. The way she is so willing to put herself into harm’s way to keep other people safe, her vow to protect him, stirs something in his heart that he isn’t sure about. He couldn’t be falling for her--she is his commanding officer! Besides, he has a year to live, at the most, and she deserves an entire life full of love, not one transient year of affection. The disappointing reality surrounding him, he keeps his hand near the grip of his pistol, ready to draw and shoot if Zaeed became too threatening. Nothing fatal, but debilitating enough to remove the threat from Shepard.

The shock wave from the explosion sends a metal beam toward Zaeed, and crushes his leg. Rhys holsters her pistol, then goes to him. Thane mutters under his breath; this man had threatened her life only moments ago, and now she is trying to help him. Her actions speak volumes about her character, and Thane find himself admiring her more and more.

Still ready to fire at Zaeed, Thane watches Rhys lift the beam from his leg before helping the mercenary to his feet. How incredible that she still keeps him on her team even after the riotous events that have just occurred. Thane goes to Zaeed’s left side, helping him to the shuttle. He looks to Rhys, and sees the burns along her cheek, down to her neck. Blood bathes the burns, and he quickly locates the source; a very deep gash just under her eye where the shrapnel had lacerated her skin.

When they return to the Normandy, Rhys and Zaeed both go directly to the med bay, the commander insisting the doctor see the mercenary first. Thane follows Rhys, wanting to help as much as he can. He has stitched up more than a few wounds of his own after completing some of his contracts. Thane is both proud and ashamed that he can stitch wounds and leave a barely noticeable scar.

Doctor Chakwas expresses her concern at having Zaeed taken care of first; Rhys’ injuries are more severe. Still, Shepard insists.

“Commander, you know I respect you, but as your doctor, I really need to get some pressure on that wound. You already look concerningly pale.” Rhys is shaking her head, noticing the wave of vertigo washing over her, insisting her crewmate be taken care of first. Thane steps in, hands folded behind his back, his usual disciplined stance.

“Doctor Chakwas,” Thane begins. Rhys jumps at the sound of his voice; she didn’t even realize he was there. “I have some experience with stitching cuts like these. I am more than happy to lend some assistance if need be.”

The doctor looks at Thane, debating whether to take his offer. She decides to not let the decision be up to her. “Commander, would you be accepting if Mr. Krios was to get that cut taken care of? We really need pressure on it sooner rather than later.”

Rhys nods her head slowly. “That’s perfectly fine with me. Just try not to leave a terribly nasty scar, Thane. Cerberus worked hard to make this mug pretty again.” She laughs, and Thane watches her lips as they pull into her smile. She really underestimates her own beauty.

“I’ll do my best, Shepard.” Thane responds simply, picking up the suture kit from the tray next to Rhys’ bed.

Shepard can’t help but notice how nimble his fingers are while he is sewing her skin back together; she hardly feels a thing. With fascination and admiration, Rhys stares up at him, noticing his slow, even breath, his dark eyes, and his duplicated eyelids blinking every few seconds. His tempting lips are pulled together in an expression of contemplation, and she wonders what he is thinking.

“Thane, what are you thinking about?” She finally asks, her curiosity overwhelming.

He shifts his gaze from her wound to her eyes. They’re caught there for a moment, both unable to speak or breathe.

“Nothing--” he pauses, as the name ‘ _Siha_ ’ hovers behind his lips. He isn’t quite so bold. “--Shepard. Just trying to leave a minimal scar.”

Rhys hums in understanding. “I was just joking, you know. Cerberus could have definitely done a better job at making me pretty.” She chuckles, and Thane draws the needle through for the last stitch.

“Shepard, you are more beautiful than you realize.” It is all he says before finishing the last suture, then turning and leaving the med bay.

Zaeed and Doctor Chakwas exchange a glance. “What was that all about?” Zaeed’s gruff voice cuts through the air. The physician looks at Rhys’ supine body on the bed diagonal from her station.

“I’m not altogether sure, Zaeed, but you’re all done. Take it easy on that leg for a while, and I’ll put a cast on in about three weeks. No funny business, you understand?” Rhys would have smiled at the doctor’s firm tone if she wasn’t so preoccupied with the fact that Thane had just called her beautiful.

Zaeed hobbles away on his crutch, and Doctor  Chakwas moves to where Rhys is. Sitting next to the commander, Chakwas asks about the drell.

“Thane is rather interesting, don’t you think?” Rhys only nods in agreement. It had been years since anyone had ever called her beautiful. Even Kaidan never went so far. “And, quite handsome, if I do say so myself. He certainly wears clothes that are very becoming on him.” The doctor laughs, and it is only then that Rhys shifts her glance to the doctor.

“He is very attractive. But there is no way he would want someone like me. Look at me, Karin! I’m a mess. Why would anyone ever want someone like me?” Rhys uses the doctor’s first name for the first time since sharing the Serrice Ice brandy a few weeks back.

Looking at Rhys with the same expression a mother might look at her disgruntled daughter, Karin offers the best reassurance she can. “Rhys, you really are quite amazing. Everything you’ve been through would have knocked more than a few people down. Yet here you are, fighting the good fight despite every adverse circumstance. Though you are in a traditionally male position, you retain your femininity, and that is truly admirable. I think Thane really admires you, Shepard, and I think you really admire him, too. There’s no need to shy away from your chance at love.”

By this point, Karin has gloved her hands and prepared the debridement tray. “I told Thane about Alistair last night. He listened intently, took it all in, and that’s been it. He hasn’t said anything else about it, nor am I expecting him to. It’s just… since losing Alistair, and the whole disaster with Kaidan…” Rhys trails off, not being able to put her thoughts into words. How could she explain that the very idea of love terrifies her? How could she explain that she swore off such things when Alistair died? How could she explain that the relationship with Kaidan was a farce, and she went along with it to appease him? She worries so much about ruining relationships with her crewmates, and she certainly doesn’t want to involve herself with anyone because of her past.

Karin picks up one of her tools to begin debriding Shepard’s burns. “Do whatever you feel is best, Rhys. That’s all I can tell you. But I do think you and Thane have something. Talk to him, get to know him, and go from there. Okay?”

Rhys nods, and swallows tears that had come up for no apparent reason. She has no reason to cry. It’s only after mentally reprimanding herself that she realizes Karin is pulling debris from her burns, and it is very painful. So painful, in fact, it had brought tears to the eyes of Lieutenant Commander Rhys Shepard, who hadn’t cried in years.

Though, upon further contemplation, the pain wasn’t the only reason. Rhys has a sinking feeling in her gut; Doctor Karin Chakwas is right.

 

Face bandaged, Rhys leaves the med bay. She goes to Life Support, wanting to speak to Thane about what he had said in the med bay. Within Life Support, Thane paces, thinking over how quickly he seems to be falling for his commander, how inappropriate it seems all around. At any rate, Thane convinces himself that she could never feel the same for him. He has taken so many lives, his past is stained in pain and regret. How would she find that attractive? Thane waves the thought away when he hears the knock on his door.

“Come in.” He grumbles. When he turns to see his guest, he has to resist the urge to run to her, and sweep her into his arms.

“Hey,” Rhys says simply, the bandages on her face making her speech difficult.

“How do you feel, Shepard?” Thane folds his hands behind his back, noticing the coldness in his voice.

She shrugs. “Alright, I suppose. My face has felt better in the past, but it’s felt worse, too.” Rhys tries to laugh. Thane’s mouth remains flat. Her smile diminishes quickly, and she begins to rethink coming here. “Is this a bad time?”

He turns his back to her. “Yes, in fact. I would prefer to be alone.” Thane is surprised at his own words. This does not feel like his Soul speaking; his Soul wants nothing more than to invite her to stay.

Rhys is visibly stung, and not just by her wounds. “Oh. I see. I’ll just go, then. Sorry to have bothered you.” She turns to leave. Thane hears the door open, and suddenly doesn’t want her to go.

“Wait.” He sounds slightly overzealous. Rhys enthusiastically turns back to him.

“Yes?” She asks.

“What did you need, Shepard?” Thane doesn’t turn to face her, he just has his head turned to see her from the corner of his eye.

“I just wanted to ask about what you said in the med bay. About telling me I was beautiful?” Rhys turns to face him, and wishes desperately that he would do the same. He does not.

“Am I not allowed to remark on a woman’s beauty? I might think the view into the open galaxy is beautiful, or the horizon of a certain planet. Am I not allowed to remark upon its beauty?” He turns his head back so that he cannot see her. This is painful for him, but he feels it is for the best.

Again, Rhys is taken aback by his sudden change in behavior. “Of course, you’re allowed to say anything about anything. I just thought that with that comment that you--” Thane interrupts.

“--That I what?” He turns to face her now, praying that his emotions are masked. “That I have feelings for you? Or could develop them for you?” Rhys looks at him strangely, unsure of what to make of his behavior.

“Is that such a far-fetched idea?” She asks, allowing anger drip into her voice.

He is unsure of how to answer. It is not a far-fetched idea at all; he is developing feelings for her, and cannot deny it, but with such limited time, he fears that he wouldn’t be able to give her the life she deserves.

“Well?” She demands.

He turns away from her once more. “Maybe it is too far-fetched. You’re the first friend I’ve made in ten years, but I doubt things would progress beyond that.” Thane closes his eyes, begging Rhys to leave it alone at that.

She pauses for a moment, gathering her composure. “A friend, huh? Well, it’s a start. You don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe I’ll surprise you. Maybe you’ll surprise me. For now, thanks for the compliment. Good night.” With that, she turns and storms out, making sure to hit the door control harder than necessary.

Garrus is standing in the kitchen area, petitioning the cook to make more turian-friendly food. When Rhys passes, Garrus looks up at her, but she walks by before he has the chance to say anything. Rhys makes her way to her cabin, and once there, pours herself a glass of whiskey. She frees Agamemnon, then sits on the couch, sipping her liquor.

“Too far-fetched my ass.” She grumbles. Her anger swirls inside like the ice in her whiskey. “Damn drell.” She takes another sip, when there’s a knock at her door.

“Shep? You good?” Garrus’ voice is faint through the door, and she smiles at the fact that he came by to check on her.

“Come on in, Garrus.” The door opens, and the looming turian steps into her cabin. “Pour yourself a drink, if you feel so compelled.” Rhys uses the hand with her drink to gesture to her selection of liquor.

Garrus glances at the bottles, then back at his friend. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He walks to the couch where she is sitting, and takes a seat next to her. “What’s going on? It’s been a minute since you’ve been so upset.”

Rhys shakes her head, and grinds her teeth. “That damn drell.” It’s all she said.

“Thane? Did something go wrong today?” Garrus asks. Rhys looks at him with a look of annoyance. “Besides the explosion that tried to kill you. On the upside, we’ll match.” He gestures to his own scarred face, and his mandibles open slightly, a sign of his amusement.

“No, everything was good on the ground today. But when we were in the med bay, he told me I was beautiful. I went to talk to him about it just now, and he told me that he was just remarking on my beauty the same way he would make a comment about the beauty of a horizon or some shit.” She waves her hand in disdain, then takes another sip of whiskey.

Garrus nods solemnly. “You like him, don’t you?”

Rhys laughs. “Sure, I like him. I like you, I like Zaeed, Jack, Joker. I like a lot of people.”

“Oh, me, your best friend, you only _like?_ I see.” Garrus jokes. When Rhys glares at him, he apologizes. “Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood. I mean to say that you admire him with more than just general esteem.”

Rhys sighs, then stares into her half-empty whiskey. “I think he is pretty attractive. I don’t know what it is about him, but there is just _something_. I told him about Mindoir last night, and thought we had a moment. Apparently, I was wrong.”

Garrus leans into the couch. “I think he likes you, too. I noticed the way he looked at you in the med bay. There was something in his eyes. I don’t know much about this kind of thing, but there was something different in the way he looked at you. Maybe he likes you, too, and he’s scared to tell you.”

Rhys scoffs, downing the rest of her whiskey. “I need a refill.” She stands, and goes to the makeshift bar. Pouring liquor into her glass, she decides to just take the bottle; it’s one of those nights.

“Do you want me to talk to him for you?” Garrus offers.

Rhys shakes her head. “If there’s anything I hate more in this world, it’s someone sending someone else to do their dirty work. If someone can’t take care of their own shit, then I don’t want anything to do with it.” She takes a swig of whiskey from the bottle.

“I doubt talking to fellow crewmates would be doing your dirty work, Shep.” The nickname she usually found endearing annoys her now.

“Do whatever you want to do, Garrus. I’m not going to send you to talk to him like some elementary school girl, but I’m not going to stop you.” She drinks again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to drink some more of this whiskey, then go to bed. My face hurts.”

Garrus nods. “Let me know if you need anything, Shepard. I’m here.”

She nods at him. “Thanks. Now get outta here.” Rhys smirks, letting him know the remark is made in jest, but that she still means it. He obeys, and leaves.

A groan escapes her lips, and Rhys falls backward onto the bed, being sure to not spill any of her alcohol. “I’m too old for this.”

 

Garrus finds himself standing awkwardly at the door to Life Support. He knocks, and Thane answers.

“Mr. Vakarian. Forgive me, I am quite surprised to see you here.” Thane pulls his arms behind him, unsure of why the turian is at his doorstep.

“Please don’t call me ‘Mr. Vakarian.’ That’s my father, not me.” Garrus chuckles. Thane nods in response. “So, how are you settling in?” Garrus steps into Life Support, and scans the room, admiring Thane’s setup.

Thane watches the turian, slightly suspicious at this display. “I am settling in just fine, thank you.”

“Good. That’s very good.” Garrus pauses. “Is this your sniper rifle?” He points to the shelf with the guns resting there.

Thane bows his head. “Yes. That particular model is my favorite.”

“May I?” Garrus asks. Thane nods, giving his permission. With careful hands, Garrus lifts the rifle from its place on the shelf. “This is a beautiful weapon.”

“Indeed, it is. Have you fired it or its like before?” Thane inquires, stepping toward the turian.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure. We should go to the shooting range sometime, see who’s the best sniper.” Garrus jokes, but Thane doesn’t do more than smile slightly.

“Maybe one day.” Thane’s curiosity overwhelms him. “What are you really doing here, Garrus? I have the suspicion that you’re not just here to talk guns.”

Garrus looks at him, applauding his intuition. “I heard about what happened with Rhys. I would like to hear your take on it.” Garrus replaces the rifle, with as much tenderness as before.

Thane sighs. “I did what I thought was best. She is an incredible woman; beautiful, smart, talented, a true marvel with her biotics…” He trails off, as he realizes he sounds slightly ridiculous. Garrus stares at him with skepticism in his eyes. Thane continues. “I do feel a spark of something for her, but I am dying, Garrus. I don’t have much longer to live, and I want her to have a full life with someone who can be with her more than a year.” The drell places his hands on the back of one of the chairs at the table, and leans forward. “I want to see what happens with us. I want her to want to see where life takes us. But my life is racing ever quicker to death, and she deserves so much more than that.”

Garrus sighs. “I see. Has it occurred to you that Rhys doesn’t want to live until she’s 102? She doesn’t want to live such a long life. With everything she has been through, she wouldn’t mind her life ending long before she is considered ‘old.’ I really think the two of you have potential. Give her a chance. Give yourself a chance. She might surprise you.” With that, Garrus leaves the room, leaving Thane to his thoughts.

Maybe Garrus is right. Maybe Thane and Rhys can make something work. If she would even feel the same. Thane shakes his head. There are too many thoughts and emotions coursing through his body at the moment to think about this much more. The drell prepares himself for the night’s rest.

 

PART III

The next day, Thane wakes feeling heavy and disappointed in himself. He replays the night’s events, cursing himself for potentially ruining something great with Rhys. After dressing himself, he goes to the dining hall, where Rhys happens to be making a cup of coffee. She had clearly just gotten out of the shower; her hair is in a tight red rope down along the back of her head. Dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, she clearly is taking this time in the morning to relax, and have a cup of coffee before the day’s events.

“Good morning,” Thane breathes, sitting at the nook in front of her.

She casts a glance to him, bandages still covering most of her face. Her lips don’t tilt up in her usual smile when they greet each other. Thane suddenly feels very conspicuous.

“Morning.” She leans against the counter, sipping her coffee. Thane commits to memory the way her mouth curves around the rim of the cup. Not that he has much choice, but he allows himself to savor the moment with extra observance.

“How do your burns feel today?” He folds his hands in front of him, trying to make small talk.

Rhys decides to take the bait. “It’s still pretty sore, and I feel like most of the nerves are still too burned to feel much, so I’m sure it’ll be even more painful in a few days.” She sighs, and Thane tries not to stare at her. Finally, he cannot take the small talk anymore, and decides to jump in feet first.

“Rhys,” he uses her first name in order to catch her attention. It works. “I want to apologize for my words yesterday. I did not mention your beauty to do so in passing; I do truly find you remarkable. You look after your team selflessly, clearly willing to walk through fire before risking their lives. Such protectors are not common, and I stand in awe of you because of it.” He sighs, hoping that he hasn’t made an utter fool of himself.

Rhys looks into her coffee, heart beating quickly in her chest. She feels the fluster in her cheeks, and she’s grateful that her bandages are covering the majority of her face. “I appreciate that, Thane. Thank you.”

Thane stands. “Of course, Shepard.” A silence settles between the two, and it grows rather awkward rather quickly. “Excuse me.” It’s all he manages before rushing back to Life Support. He is surprised at himself for this reaction. Usually he is much less disquiet. Sitting at the table in Life Support, Thane decides to meditate, to get his thoughts in order.

Rhys stands in the kitchen, rather surprised at this turn of events. She finds herself smiling, though only for a moment until her burns become too painful to continue the expression. Finishing her coffee, she goes to her cabin to prepare for the day’s events; the plan is to go to Pragia to fulfill Jack’s request to destroy the facility where she grew up, then go to Illium to take care of Miranda’s sister. It’s going to be a busy day, and she is rather looking forward to it.

 

After the day’s adventures, Rhys is exhausted. Not only did she assist Jack in destroying the Teltin facility, and got Miranda’s sister to another home safely, she had to diffuse a nasty fight between the two. She had been able to convince both Jack and Miranda that the argument was a distraction, that the real issue was the Collectors and destruction thereof. They both agreed, and Rhys found it surprising that she was able to drive reason into their heads without any casualties.

Changing into more comfortable clothes, she makes her way back to the dining hall to make herself a cup of tea. She has a tinge of hope that Thane will hear her in the dining hall, and offer his company as he had this morning. Tea made, no sign of Thane, Rhys retreats to her cabin.

Within Life Support, Thane reads the message over again, not quite comprehending the words on the datapad.

_To whom it may concern, Kolyat Krios is on the Citadel, and has accepted a contract to assassinate an anonymous target._

It doesn’t make sense. Thane draws a hand over his face, covering his mouth with his palm, the sickening dread in his gut growing. Kolyat shouldn’t have taken this contract. He shouldn’t have received the package. He shouldn’t have grown up without a father…

Thane stands from the cot, walks to the window looking upon the engine core, and watches the electricity dance around the dome. Tali is on the Engineering level, and waves to Thane from where she stands, observing the core. Thane returns the gesture, albeit with less enthusiasm. He thinks upon the day, how Shepard had gone to both Pragia and Illium to settle old scores for both Jack and Miranda. The thought drifts across his mind for a second that he could ask Rhys for help in this matter. His own reasoning shoots down the idea quickly. She is far too busy to do something of this magnitude with and for him.

Still, this is his _son._ With so little time left to live, Thane knows that this might be the last chance he has to reconcile. Memories flash through his mind as he replays the last time he saw his son. He shakes his head, and the memories with it. Determination driving his step, he goes to the deck above his, getting the attention of Yeoman Chambers.

She turns to face him quickly, blush reddening her cheeks. Thane would have allowed the display of  emotion to flatter him if his heart wasn’t so heavy.

“Yeoman Chambers--” He starts, before she interrupts.

“Please, call me Kelly.” A flirtatious smile tilts her lips.

Thane sighs. “Kelly, could you please let Commander Shepard know that there is something I need to discuss with her presently? Time is of the essence.” His voice quivers ever so slightly, but Kelly doesn’t seem to notice.

“Of course. I think she is in her cabin now--I can page her to meet you in Life Support, if you’d like.”

Thane nods. “That would be appreciated. Thank you, Kelly.” He smiles slightly at her, before turning to board the elevator.

When back in Life Support, Thane paces back and forth, the anxiety of telling Rhys all of this wracking his nerves more than he would like.

There is a subtle knock at his door. “Thane?” Rhys’ voice is quiet, but gentle. Thane’s heart jumps to his throat at the sound, and he turns to look at the door for a moment before opening it, allowing Rhys to enter.

She is in the same outfit she was in this morning; simple tank top and sweatpants, hair still in a braid along the back of her head, but with some flyaway pieces framing her face flatteringly. She holds a cup of tea, and Thane notices how beautiful her hands are. He blinks the thoughts away, knowing he needs to address this.

“Kelly paged me, and mentioned that you needed to talk about something.” She sets her mug on the table, standing to face Thane directly. “Is everything alright?”

Thane’s breath catches. “No. Now that you are here, though, this is more difficult to talk about.” He tugs at his collar, wondering why he cannot articulate his thoughts.

Rhys sits at the table, taking her tea in her hands. “I’m in no rush. Take all the time you need.”

He smiles at her, again in awe of how selfless she is. He knows she probably has reports to file, or personal things she needs to address, yet here she is in his quarters, offering to stay with him for as long as he needs for him to feel comfortable enough to tell her the news.

Thane figures it would be easier to face away from her, imagining to himself that he is talking only to air; Rhys has such a presence, though, that this method doesn’t work. He stands facing away from her, still, but imagines her smiling face in front of him.

“I…” He trails off.

Rhys’ curiosity is piqued. “Are you feeling sick? I can get Doctor Chakwas for you.”

Thane shakes his head. “No, I feel alright, more or less. My mortality is contributing to this, I think.” He sighs. “I had a family once. I still have a son. Kolyat. I haven’t seen him in a very long time.” Thane blinks. Rhys stands, and steps to where he is, the smell of her lemon and peppermint oil drifting toward his nostrils. He savors the scent.

“How long has it been, exactly?” She asks, though the question isn’t to pry, it is driven by curiosity more than anything.

“Ten years. He had shown me some of his schoolwork, and asked if we could, ‘dance crazy.’”

Rhys chuckles. “I can’t say that I dance, but ‘dance crazy’ is something I haven’t heard of before.”

Thane smiles, though it is drowned in melancholy. “It’s something we did when he was young. I…” The memories flood back. He relives the moment, reciting it as it passes before his eyes. How his son had asked for the simplest of pleasures, how Thane had denied him.

The drell dips his head, closing his eyes to stop the deluge of moments from years long past.

Rhys gives him a moment to recover before inquiring, “What happened to them, Thane?”

He has the slightest stinging in his eyes from tears welling there. Her utter gentleness tugs at his heart in a way he doesn’t quite comprehend. Swallowing the tears, he continues. “I abandoned them. It wasn’t anything dramatic, no argument, no slipping away in the night or slammed doors. I did my job, Shepard.” He shrugs his shoulders, allowing the absurdity of the situation to encompass him for the briefest of moments. “I hunted and killed across the galaxy. When people asked my wife where I was, she would tell them ‘away on business.’ She had to say that more often than not. I was always ‘away on business.’”

Rhys looks from the handsome drell to the engine core. “I’m sorry, Thane.” She places a hand to his shoulder, and he relishes the touch. “Out of curiosity, why mention this now?”

Thane allows himself to look at her, to take in the sight of her, and to read her expression. Nothing but the utmost sincerity is in her eyes, and she is looking at him more gently than he has experienced in ten years.

“After my wife departed from her body, I…” He isn’t sure how to say he hunted and killed the perpetrators that robbed him of his wife. “...attended to that issue. I left my son in the care of his aunts and uncles; I haven’t seen him since.”

Rhys is surprised at this admission. “I wouldn’t have expected that. Why didn’t you take him?”

Thane shakes his head slightly. “My body is blessed with the skills and means to take life. I didn’t want Kolyat on that same path. If he hated me, so be it. I didn’t want him to share my path of sin.”

Rhys dips her head. “I understand completely.”

“All this to say, I still maintain connections to some of my contacts from when I was active. I used that network to trace Kolyat, and he has become… disconnected.”

Rhys ponders that for a moment. “Disconnected? What does that mean? Is Kolyat hurt?”

Thane blinks, trying to think of how to explain the concept. He discovers the perfect analogy. “Last night when I was saying those harsh things to you, that was not my true self. Those words were not coming from my soul. The soul is who we truly are, our body is only the vessel for our soul. When drell become sick, or injured, or if we weaken our soul through fear, we become disconnected. No longer whole.”

Rhys nods, comprehending what he is communicating. “So how did Kolyat become disconnected?”

Thane explains that he had left a package for Kolyat with some Volus bankers on the Citadel. Kolyat was due to receive the package when Thane died, but somehow received it early. Because of this, Kolyat now knows his father’s life, some of the secrets therein. Rhys listens intently as Thane continues, telling her that Kolyat is now on the Citadel, and has accepted a contract to assassinate someone.

“I would like your help to stop him.” Thane finally says. “This… this is not a path he should walk.”

Rhys stands in amazement. Thane is not only a father, but a very caring one at that, despite the lack of presence in his son’s life. Watching his demeanor and body language as he speaks of his son, Rhys knows without a doubt the love he has for Kolyat.

“Thane, you are one of, if not _the_ best assassin in the galaxy. I don’t have your skills or your contacts. Why do you need my help for this?”

The drell confesses. “I don’t need your help, I _want_ it.” A significant glance passes between the duo. Memories again flood Thane’s mind, and he relays the scene of Irikah’s funeral aloud.

He shakes his head quickly, losing his bearings for a second before gaining his composure. He blinks a few times, then looks back at Rhys.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you relive that.” She dips her head.

Thane thinks of a light response. “Perfect memory. It is sometimes a burden.”

Rhys smiles slightly, though the seriousness of the moment is not lost on her. “I’ll have Joker set a course for the Citadel first thing in the morning. Garrus has something to take care of there, too, but your situation is more time-sensitive, so we’ll be sure to take care of Kolyat when we first arrive.”

Thane bows his head, blatantly aware of his growing affection for this woman. “Of course. Thank you, Shepard.”

She smiles; even though her face is still bandaged due to her burns, the smile she gives him is bright and warm. “Thank you for telling me, Thane. I understand it can be difficult to trust someone with something like this, but I really appreciate you trusting me.” Again, she places a hand on his shoulder, and she allows it to linger. The two share another significant look. “If you need anything, I mean anything at all, please let me know. I’m here for you.”

Thane does his best to smile at her, and places a hand atop hers. He takes her hand, and kisses her fingers. “Thank you, Rhys.”

She blushes at the kiss to her knuckles. “You should get some rest. You’re going to see your son tomorrow, so a good night’s sleep is paramount.” He nods, just realizing that he still has a hold of her hand.

“Of course.” He lets her hand go, with a surprising amount of reluctance. “Good night, Shepard.”

She takes her cup of tea from the table. Looking back at him, she smiles again. “Good night, Thane.” As she walks to the door to Life Support, Thane turns to catch a glimpse of her as she leaves.

The admiration within his heart for the woman is growing rapidly, and for the first time in a long time, Thane isn’t afraid of the tune to which his heart is dancing.

 

“I can’t forgive you for this anymore.” Kolyat still has the gun poised above Talid’s head, the turian clearly frightened for his life. Rhys scans the room for anything she could use as a distraction against the escalating situation. She sees a lamp just behind Kolyat, and decides to take the shot.

Kolyat flinches, lifting the armed hand to shield himself from the gunfire, though he is the last thing Rhys would target.

“Talid, get out of here.” Rhys commands, glancing to Thane. His eyes have never left his son, and Rhys can see the tears welling, but not spilling. The turian runs from the room, and Kolyat looks at his father with disgust.

“You son of a bitch!” Kolyat yells beyond the knot of tears in his throat.

“Kolyat, your father doesn’t have much time left…” Rhys trails off, glancing at Thane before continuing. “He’s trying to make amends, to fix his mistakes.”

Thane dips his head in agreement. Kolyat makes a remark that Thane is only doing this so he can die in peace. Shaking his head, the heartbroken father reassures his son that this is not so. Rhys watches the emotional moment, and finds her heart swelling at the sight of Thane going to his son for forgiveness, though Kolyat is reluctant to give forgiveness yet.

 

Back on the Normandy, Rhys allows Thane time and space. The day has been trying for them both, between Rhys stopping Garrus from killing Sidonis, to Thane and his son, Rhys knows that both of them need to heal. Still, Rhys makes two cups of tea, and knocks on the door to Life Support.

“Thane?” She asks softly, hoping to not disturb him. The door opens a few seconds later, and Thane looks haggard and exhausted.

“Shepard, forgive me, I…” He doesn’t know how to continue.

“It’s okay. I know it’s been a difficult day. Here.” She hands him one of the cups. “I made you some tea. I didn’t know how strong you like it, so I just made it the same way I make mine.” She smiles sheepishly, and when Thane takes the cup from her hands, he makes sure to brush against her fingers with his own, a subtle gesture of his gratitude.

“Thank you, Shepard.” Thane looks into the cup, feeling much too fatigued to say much more.

“You’re welcome, Thane.” Rhys stands awkwardly for a moment. “I’ll let you get back to your evening. Enjoy the tea.” She turns, but Thane calls her name.

“Rhys, wait.” He looks up at her, the cup of tea still in his hands.

“Yes?” She asks, looking over her shoulder.

Thane steps to her, placing a kiss to her lips. It is soft, careful, uncertain. He has a hand on her waist, and pulls her closer to him.

“Thank you, _Siha_.” It is all he says when he pulls away.  

Rhys stares up at him with disbelief. Her heart is racing in her chest, and it takes all of her self-control to not kiss him again. She is stopped by the curiosity of the name by which he had just addressed her.

“ _Siha?_ What does that mean?” Rhys stares at Thane, admiring the way his lips curl slightly at her question.

“I will tell you at another time. For now, if you don’t mind, I would like to drink this tea, and bring the day to a close.”

Rhys nods, doing her best to keep the excited butterflies in her belly under control.

“Of course, Thane.” She steps forward, and kisses his cheek. “Good night.”

  


PART IV

It has been weeks since Rhys and Thane’s first kiss, and their relationship and admiration for each other only grows. She keeps tabs on his health as well as she can, making sure to keep him comfortable. They make plans to visit all kinds of exotic deserts as soon as the Collectors are defeated. Rhys, despite losing her first love, and failing miserably at her attempt to love Kaidan, is incredibly comfortable with Thane. After he told her about losing Irikah, she knows that Thane has experienced a similar loss, and can relate to her past better than most. In this, she finds solace. In her, he finds solace.

Thane continues to repair his relationship with Kolyat, and the two are getting along well. He finds himself falling more in love with Rhys every day, and despite his ailments, Thane accompanies her to as many missions as possible. He makes it his mission to keep her safe. Rhys told him at the beginning of their relationship that she didn’t want him to push himself beyond his limits, that she would rather have him stay aboard the Normandy in safety. Thane gently reminds her that she had been on the Normandy when she died, so all in all, nowhere is safer than anywhere else, and he would much rather be with her. With reluctance, she agrees.

Thanks to the Illusive Man, Rhys and her team are able to find a Reaper Friend or Foe device that will allow them to get through the Omega 4 Relay safely, and hopefully with minimal detection. Rhys has upgraded the ship’s armor and arsenal, rallying up any kinds of defenses she can get to defeat the Collectors.

All of her squadmates are undyingly loyal, as she has gone to each of them to make sure they are not distracted by anything, and if they are, she makes sure to get everything resolved.

The night before going through the relay, everyone is making their final preparations; each member of the team knows what is at stake, and that death is a very real possibility. Granted, this reality is not lost on Thane, as he has been expecting death to claim him since a young age. He finds it miraculous that he has even made it to where he is now.

Yet something is different about this mission. He doesn’t want his life to come to such an abrupt end. He feels as though he has something to live for, not just something to die for. Knowing that Rhys is busy making her own preparations, Thane decides to go to her cabin, instead of waiting for her to appear at his quarters.

The walk is long, and he finds himself growing nervous when he stands in front of her door. She hadn’t invited him to her cabin, so he feels as though he is almost invading. Yet Rhys has always made him feel comfortable, and he has he thinks she wouldn’t mind his appearance at her door. He knocks, but when he doesn’t hear an answer, he takes the liberty of entering.

When he steps into her cabin, Rhys is sitting on the couch, overlooking a datapad that contains details for the mission upon which they were about to embark. She is surprised to see her drell companion standing in her cabin; she hadn’t invited him, and he hadn’t asked permission to come. Not that he needed her permission, it was just a topic of discussion that had never come up.

“Thane?” She asks, standing from the couch, gratefully setting the datapad to the side.

He has determination in his step, knowing that he must say what is weighing on his heart.

“ _Siha_ , I…” He turns away from her, pacing across the room. “I have known I will die for many years. I have tried to leave the galaxy better than I found it.” He pauses to look at her. She stares at him with inquisitive but attentive eyes. He continues. “You’ve helped me achieve more than I thought possible. We’ve righted many wrongs. I’ve spoken to my son.” He heaves a sigh, knowing the magnitude of everything she has done for him, but not knowing how to communicate that properly. Turning toward her, the emotions begin to roil inside of him. “I should be at peace on the eve of battle.”

Rhys stands enthusiastically, reading the pure, unadulterated emotion in his eyes. “Stop.” She puts her hands on his chest. “Don’t give me a speech.”

Thane looks down at her hands on his chest. “I am… ashamed.” He lifts his eyes to meet hers, and in that moment, Rhys cannot deny her love for him.

She goes to put a hand on the side of his face, but he waves it away. Thane’s features contort in an expression of what seems to be disgust. Walking to her desk, he leans against it for a moment. Finally, the emotion grows to something so powerful, he can no longer contain it. A solitary tear leaves his eye. Lifting his fist, he slams it to the table.

“I have worked so hard. Meditated and prayed, done good deeds. Atoned for the evils I’ve done. Prepared.” The last word is said with the heaviness of honesty. “I think of my body’s death, and a chill settles in my gut.” Rhys puts her hand atop his fist, doing everything she can to comfort him. “I am afraid, Rhys, and it shames me.”

“Thane,” his name falls sweetly from Rhys’ lips. “Be alive with me tonight.” She isn’t sure why this seemed so appropriate; though in complete truth, the thought of facing death within the next few hours scares Rhys as much as it does Thane.

The drell turns to face her, the words that she had just spoken healing all of his broken pieces. They share a kiss laden with passion, and things progress quickly between the two. Rhys makes sure to lock the door, and keep away any distractions; this is her night to spend with her lover.

 

The mission to defeat the Collectors is brutal, but a success. There were no casualties, and when Rhys jumps back to her ship, she is overwhelmingly proud of everyone on her team.

That evening in the dining hall, they all have a celebration of sorts. It is nothing special, nothing grand, just teammates and colleagues spending time together to share their victory.

The celebration is short-lived for Rhys; Kelly tells her that Admiral Hackett needs to speak with her. Rhys goes to her cabin, and takes the comm.

Hackett informs Rhys of Dr. Amanda Kenson’s unfortunate fate of being captured by the Batarians on charges of terrorism. The seasoned, scarred admiral also asks Rhys to go in alone. She is reluctant at that, and knows Thane will be, too, but she also understands the need for discretion.

“I’ll make this a priority,” she promises, and Hackett thanks her. He sends the coordinates, and tells her to confirm the rescue of the good doctor. Rhys nods, closes the comm, then joins the celebration for the night. Thane pulls her aside.

“ _Siha,_ is everything alright?” He puts a hand to her waist, pulling her close.

She sighs. “Everything is fine. No rest for the wicked, as it were. I need Joker to set a course for Aratoht tomorrow.”

Thane’s brow furrows. “Tomorrow? You aren’t allowed even one day’s rest?” The concern is dripping from his voice, and it is hinted with a bit of anger; she deserves some time to herself without running to save everyone else.

“Tomorrow. It’s alright. It’ll be a quick mission, in and out. Then I’ll be back, and we can go to those deserts. I promise you that we will go to a desert, Thane.” She smiles, placing her hands to his chest.

He kisses her. “I’m going with you on the mission.” Determination swells in his chest, and Rhys looks to the floor.

“Hackett has asked me to do this alone, as a personal favor to him. As much as I would love for you to accompany me, I need to do this alone.” Rhys sighs heavily.

“No.” Thane insists. “Though you are a diligent protector, you need someone to look after you, too. I won’t let you go alone.”

She smiles slightly at his persistence. “Oh, _mon amour_ , you know I always feel safe with you by my side. Still, I did manage to take out a thresher maw singlehandedly back on Akuze all those years ago. I will be alright, I promise.” Rhys kisses him, and he can taste the passion on her lips.

“You be as safe as possible, _Siha._ I can’t bear the thought of losing you.” Thane takes her hands in his own, noting how callused and rough they are.

She nods. “Of course, Thane. I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

The two join the crowd again, enjoying the few hours of time they have before the stress to come tomorrow.

 

Aratoht becomes a catastrophe. Rhys had been certain that the mission would  be simple and easy, quick, painless. She had been wrong.

She knows that the only way to curb the arrival of the Reapers would be to destroy the Alpha Relay. But at the same time, how could she justify the loss of 300,000 batarian lives? It doesn’t seem right. Rhys thinks for the briefest of moments that this is simply revenge for all the pain that the batarian slavers had cost millions of families like her own, but this idea is far from justifiable.

Her gun trained on the indoctrinated Doctor Kenson, Rhys does her best to talk the Doctor out of this absurd reasoning, but Kenson will have none of it.

She sets off a bomb that knocks Rhys to the ground, and the commander loses consciousness.

When Rhys wakes, she isn’t sure how long she has been unconscious. All she knows is that the Project VI continually repeats: “Warning: collision imminent. Warning: collision imminent.” Rhys makes it to her feet, walking to the console where she tries to contact Joker.

“Communication system damaged.” The VI reports.

“Damn it!” Rhys thinks of Thane, her promise to return safely. “How can I get out of here?”

“Evacuation protocols in effect. All personnel report to escape shuttles.”

Shepard perks up. “Where can I find the escape shuttles?”

The VI gives instructions on where to find the shuttles, and Rhys leaves the reactor, praying to any deity that exists to get her off this rock safely.

_I can’t bear the thought of losing you._

Thane’s words echo in Rhys’ mind. This only drives her determination deeper. When she gets to the roof, she is bombarded with soldiers and mechs. She overhears the soldiers yell that the last shuttle is leaving.

“Damn it. I have to get to that comm tower. Please, let the Normandy be listening.” Rhys mutters to herself.

She finally makes it through her opponents, and gets to the relay.

“Joker, this is Shepard. I need a pick-up. Sooner rather than later, if you don’t mind.” She chuckles, hoping to hear a smart retort from her loyal pilot. The rebuttal does not come.

Upon the Normandy, Thane stands in the cockpit, waiting to hear anything from his beloved Shepard. She has been gone for a concerning amount of time, and he is growing increasingly worried.

“--oker, this--Shepard. I need-- rath-- than later-- don’t mind.” Her voice crackles through the comm, and Joker immediately sits forward.

“Normandy to Shepard, do you copy?” Nothing in response.

Thane begins to pace, praying to Arashu that she will keep his love safe.

“Joker, there has to be some way we can find her.” Thane says, the nervousness in his voice making it quiver.

“I know. I’m tracking her location now. Here we go.” Joker keys a few things on his console, and locks in on her position.

Thane sighs, clenching his fists in worry.

“Shepard, we’re coming for you.” Joker says over the comm, but both the pilot and the drell think  the message is lost among the static. Still, they hope that she hears them. The Normandy locks on Shepard’s location, and Joker guides the ship to the glowing beacon on his console.

Back on the asteroid, after Rhys puts the comm out to the Normandy, a holograph of a Reaper vessel appears in front of her.

“What the hell?” Rhys mutters to herself.

The Reaper tells Rhys that humanity’s fight is in vain, that the death of her race is inevitable. Rhys assures the Reaper that this is not so; she makes sure to mention that even if humanity is extinguished by the Reapers, it won’t be without a fight.

Her father’s favorite poem flashes in her mind again.

_Do not go gentle into that good night…_

After a few minutes, the holograph Reaper dissipates, and Rhys spots the Normandy coming around the comm tower.

Thane looks out over the horizon, trying to spot his lover, and he sees her, waiting expectantly for their arrival.

Joker guides the ship gently to a place where Rhys can easily board. She runs to the ship, and straight to the cockpit.

“Joker, get us the hell out of here!” Rhys commands.

Thane looks over her, making sure she isn’t seriously wounded. Luckily there only seems to be a few nicks in her armor; nothing too serious.

The seasoned pilot does as he is bid, and soon, the Normandy is through the Alpha Relay, reaching safety beyond.

“ _Siha,_ are you alright?” Thane finally asks.

Rhys rips her helmet from her head, feeling as though she is going to suffocate. She begins to cough sporadically.

“Rhys…” Thane walks to her, and rubs a hand along her back. Once she is able to breath, she turns to face him.

“I… I couldn’t save them. I was sedated for so long. I just… I tried to warn the colony. I tried to get them out. God damn it.” Rhys closes her eyes, and puts her head in her hands.

Thane looks at her sincerely, overwhelmed with passion for her. “I know you did your best, _Siha._ You did everything you could.” He allows the subtone in his voice to resonate in his chest like a low growl, a way drell communicate between each other. This particular tone is meant to reassure and comfort.

Rhys steps into Thane’s embrace, and allows the reverberation from the rumble in his chest to soothe her. “Thank you, Thane.”

When she pulls away, she kisses him, then sends him away so she can speak to Joker alone.

“What happened out there, Commander?” Joker asks, clearly still reeling from the stressful few moments.

“The shorter list would be what didn’t.” Rhys remarks. “Thank you for coming in to save my ass. I would have died on that rock if not for you.” She gently places a hand to her loyal pilot’s shoulder, and gives a soft squeeze. Joker looks up at her, and tilts one corner of his mouth in a halfway kind of smile. “I better tell Admiral Hackett. He’ll probably want to meet, and board the Normandy to discuss the happenings. Go ahead and let him on.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.” Joker responds, though it is soft, and not the usual harsh military response.

Rhys fills out the report and sends it to Hackett. As she presumed, he wants to board the Normandy to discuss the events.

 

A few hours later, Admiral Hackett and Commander Shepard stand in the med bay. Rhys is surprised at how nervous she feels; Hackett has a very large presence. He reads her report back to her, and tries to discern the details of the events that transpired.

“What the hell happened out there, Shepard?” The admiral sounds confused, but not angry. In that, Rhys finds some solace.

The commander shrugs before answering. “If I knew, I would tell you. Everything happened so fast, it’s all a blur. All I know is that Doctor Kenson had been indoctrinated, the Reapers were going to use the Alpha Relay as a shortcut to the rest of the galaxy, and I had to stop that from happening. I tried to warn the Batarians, but…” She sighs heavily. “There wasn’t enough time.”

Admiral Hackett looks Rhys up and down, knowing that she is sincerely sorry for the loss of all the Batarian lives, despite having her family torn from her by the four-eyed aliens.

“The batarians report no survivors from Aratoht. At least you tried.”

Rhys sighs, and leans against one of the beds in the room.

Hackett turns away from her, maintaining his disciplined stance. “And you believe the Reaper invasion really was a threat?” The skepticism in his voice is surprising to Rhys. It’s not as though he is incredulous, but almost as if he needs her to confirm his own suspicions. She lifts her eyes to the Admiral’s back.

“No doubt about it. We literally had minutes to spare.” She straightens herself, standing from the bed. Hackett turns to face her once again.

“I’m sure all the details are in your report.” A pause. “Look, I won’t lie to you, Shepard. The batarians will want blood, and there’s just enough evidence for a witch hunt. We don’t want war with the batarians right now, especially if the Reapers are hovering on the edge of our galaxy.”

Rhys dips her head in acknowledgement. “What are you saying?” The commander has a good idea of what the seasoned admiral is going to say next, but she needs to hear it from his own mouth.

“You did what you did for the best of reasons. But there were 300,000 batarians in that system; all dead.”

Rhys looks up at Hackett, keeping her head low. “They died to save trillions of lives. If I could have saved them, I would have.”

Admiral Hackett puts his hands in front of him, gesturing toward Rhys, his palms up; a sign of his agreement. “You’re preaching to the choir, Commander. If it were up to me, I’d give you a damn medal.”

Rhys allows herself to give the Admiral the slightest of smiles.

“Unfortunately,” The Admiral continues, “not everyone will see it that way.”

Rhys paces in the med bay, tucking a piece of stray red hair behind her ear. She gives a dismal nod. “What do you suggest?”

Hackett again looks her over, feeling sorry for the vanguard has gone through in her brief life, and what he knows she must yet endure. “Evidence against you is shoddy, at best. But at some point, you’ll have to go to Earth and face the music.” He sighs. “I can’t stop it. But I can and will make them fight for it.”

Rhys turns to face the Admiral, steps toward him, straightening her posture in front of her superior. “I will gladly stand trial as soon as possible.”

Admiral Hackett’s lips twitch, something like a smile threatening to overcome his stone-like visage. “Good to see Cerberus hasn’t stripped you of your honor.”

Rhys nods.

“Do whatever you have to do out here, but when Earth calls, you make sure you’re there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit. In the meantime,” he hands the datapad with her report back to her. “You keep this. I don’t need to read your report to know you did the right thing.”

A sense of relief washes over Rhys; it is comforting to know that Hackett still approves of her, even if she struggles with her own decisions. “Yes, sir.” It is the only reply she can muster.

“You’ve done a hell of a thing, Commander.” Hackett tells her, before turning and leaving the med bay, then stepping off of the Normandy.

Rhys remains in the room for a few moments, reliving the conversation.

“Well, time to face the music.” She sets the datapad to the side, and makes her way to the Combat Information Center. She sends out a comm over the entirety of the ship, calling her teammates into the briefing room.

Moments later, Rhys’ party gathers. Though the defeat of the Collectors seems like it had been forever ago, she knows it was only yesterday, and is glad to see her teammates still alive, in one piece, and standing together in the comm room.

“What’s this about, Shepard?” Jacob asks, folding his arms in her direction.

“Is everything alright?” Garrus inquires.

Rhys dips her head, looking to her hands on the table. Thane stands next to her, and wraps her hand in his for comfort.

“It’s alright, _Siha_.” He whispers. “I am here with you.”

She gives a small smile in his direction before taking a deep breath, and embarking on her tale.

“Friends, the recent events resulting in the catastrophe of Aratoht and the Alpha Relay have set off a rather, shall we say, undesirable chain. The batarians have lost 300,000 of their own people, and that is solely my responsibility.”

A cacophony of protests fills the room. Each member of Rhys’ team knows that she did what she could to save them, but things fall apart, and sometimes do not go according to plan.

“Guys, please. It’s alright. They’re not wrong. The loss of each of those batarian lives is my fault. Maybe not the same as if I held a gun to each of their heads and pulled the trigger, but my lack of action and appropriate warning caused their deaths.”  

Rhys leans against the table, the weight of the situation threatening to crush her. Thane steps closer to her, putting an arm around her waist.

“So what exactly does this entail?” Thane asks. The question is directed toward Rhys, but the heaviness of the inquiry thickens the air in the entire room.

Rhys blinks before answering. “I am going to Earth. When we get there, I will be arrested immediately. I will step off of the ship first. Then I want Joker to be next, affirming that what happened on Aratoht was my sole responsibility, and that you all fought my decision. Thane,” she stands from the table, and turns into his embrace. “I need you to be next. I need to be able to see you before I'm incarcerated.” She looks into his dark eyes, getting lost in the galaxies within them.

“Of course, _Siha._ ” He breathes. The words are quiet, meant only for her ears. He places a kiss to her forehead.

Rhys directs her attention back to her team. “I'll be taken away, and the rest of you will need to dissipate quickly; I'm not going to insinuate that what happened on Aratoht was anyone's responsibility but mine, so no one else is going to be ties to this. That said, I will make sure that you all have an equal share of all the resources I have on board. Do with it what you will, but please spend it wisely.”

The atmosphere in the room is melancholy, to say the least. Each person around the table realizes the heaviness of Rhys’ words, and it saddens them greatly.

“Anyway, know that I have come to admire and respect all of you. I wouldn't be alive if not for every person in this room. So thank you for everything.” Rhys feels tears stinging her eyes, but she swallows them back. “Dismissed.”

Each member of her team files out of the room. Thane remains at Rhys’ side, trying his best to be her safe haven. The couple stands in silence, neither one sure of what to say.

Rhys decides to break the silence first. “You should go to a desert, Thane. Any desert you want. I know I promised I would take you, but I don't know how long I'll be incarcerated.” She avoids eye contact with him, hoping he will leave well enough alone.

Thane stares at the side of Rhys’ face, knowing her strong, impenetrable stoicism is ripping at the seams. Her words sting him, because though he has always wanted to see a desert, the truth was that he wanted to go with her.

“Rhys.” He breathes her name, pushing her hair behind her ear. “We will see a desert together.”

The commander lifts her hand and slams it to the table. “No! You don't have time to wait around for me, Thane!” Tears are streaking her cheeks unabashedly. “We both know you're dying. We don't know if we'll ever see each other again, and damn it, I promised you a desert. So go. Go without me.” Rhys storms from the comm room, leaving Thane to his thoughts.

He watches as she leaves, knowing that her emotions are turbulent and vicious at the moment. The drell thinks upon her words, trying to read the true meaning behind them; throughout their adventures, Thane has discovered that when Rhys says something, sometimes it is to disguise the true turmoil she is experiencing.

_I'm scared. Scared of losing you, Thane, of never seeing you again…_

Thane blinks a few times, understanding that the thought of his death while she is incarcerated is what provoked her outburst.

He makes his way to the dining hall, making two cups of tea. Though Rhys usually only drinks tea at the end of the day, sometimes a soothing cup of something warm can ease the hurt of a difficult afternoon.

Thane takes the two cups of tea to the loft, knocking softly on Rhys’ door.

For a moment, there is no response. But then Rhys appears at the door, hair down, framing her face nicely. She is in her usual casual dress-- sweatpants and a tank top.

“I love you.” It is all Thane says to her before leaning in to kiss her, tea still in his hands. Rhys returns the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

When the kiss breaks, the two enter her cabin, sitting comfortably on the couch. Thane gives her one of the mugs, and she sips her tea gratefully.

“The way your lips curl around your cup…” He starts, but stops himself, thinking that this may not be the best time to make such confessions.

Rhys perks up, curious. “What about it?”

Thane smiles. “It was one of the first things I noticed about you. One of the first things I fell in love with.”

Now Rhys is the one to smile, ruminating on how much she loves this man.

“I’m sorry.” She says, and Thane turns to face her more directly.

“Sorry? For what, _Siha?_ ”

Rhys again feels tears come to her eyes, and she does nothing to stop them.

“For all of those harsh things I just said in the comm room. I’m so scared of losing you, Thane. I can’t help but think that when I see you on the Normandy as the Alliance takes me away…” she trails off, allowing herself the moment to breathe and feel this pain, “What if that’s the last time I see you?” The deluge of emotions overwhelms her, and Rhys lets the floodgates open. She feels safer with Thane than anywhere else, and knows that he will accept her when she is just Rhys, and not the immovable Commander Shepard.

Thane sets his tea on the table in front of the couch, and slides to Rhys’ side. He takes her tea from her hands, and places it on the table. He folds his arms around her, and notices how small she feels in his embrace. Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy, survivor, soldier, leader, is above all, still human. Tears sting Thane’s eyes, pure, unadulterated emotion threatening to overwhelm him. As Rhys’ shoulders shake with her sobs, Thane finds no purpose in hiding his emotions. He, too, begins to cry. It had been a very long time since he felt such heavy emotion, and it was a relief.

It is the first of raw, earth-shattering moments that Rhys is due to experience.

 

PART V

Reluctantly, Joker leads the Normandy into the dock at Vancouver. He wonders to himself if he’ll fly his esteemed vessel again. He wants to say yes, but reason dictates otherwise.

In the Combat Information Center, Rhys and Thane stand near the airlock. Their hands are clasped together tightly, trying to hold onto whatever hope they have left. The rest of her team waits behind the couple, giving them some space of their own.

When Joker gets to the airlock, Rhys knows that it’s time. She turns to Thane, pulling him as close to her as possible.

“Thane, no matter what happens, I will always love you.” She whispers the words, and he feels tears stinging his eyes.

“I love you, _Siha_. If the Gods are kind, we will see each other again.” When he pulls away to look into her eyes, he notices that she, too, is fighting to keep the tears at bay. He kisses her with as much passion as is appropriate in the setting, then opens the airlock.

A group of Alliance officers are waiting at the end of the ramp from the ship to the dock itself. They are standing in their dress blues, and Thane sees the handcuffs glinting in one of the officer’s hands. The assassin, with all his expertise, begins to assess where and how he would-- could--kill each of the officers. But when the drell looks to his lover, watching her accept her inevitable fate, he suppresses such thoughts.

Thane watches Rhys as she marches down the ramp, her back straight, her head high. Even in this moment that is terrifying for both of them, she retains her pride. Thane’s lips tilt upward slightly in admiration at the sight of his lover. A wave of tightness comes into his chest, and he coughs a few times to release the pressure. He knows with dreaded certainty that this is the worsening of Kepral’s Syndrome, and in such a situation, he tries to focus on Rhys’ shock of red hair in the midst of the blue uniforms.

As Rhys gets closer and closer to the men that will arrest her, the trepidation builds. She fights the urge to turn and run to Thane’s arms; she wants to be anywhere but here, and she only wants to be with him. Rhys swallows, trying to maintain her proud facade.

“Lieutenant Commander Rhys Phoenix Shepard,” one of the officers recites. “You are under arrest…” The officer draws on about her rights, and Rhys finds herself turning around, placing her hands behind her back to be cuffed. She glances up to the Normandy, and she sees Thane standing at the top of the ramp, his hand placed to his lips. He blows a kiss to her, and she can tell that he is crying. At this moment, she allows a solitary tear fall from her eyes.

Joker steps from the ramp, and Thane helps him down the long walkway. As soon as the duo reaches the officers, one of them asks of their involvement with Aratoht. Joker glances at Rhys, and she nods to him.

“Commander Shepard insisted we go. I, along with the rest of the crew, refused, but she continued to insist upon our compliance. It was against our will.” Joker is clearly disturbed by the story, but only to Rhys’ eyes. The officers dismiss him and the rest of the Normandy crew, releasing them from any liability.

Thane watches Rhys, wanting to sweep her from her feet, and take her away. She stares at him, but before long, the officers are gripping her arms to haul her away.

“Stay alive.” She says to him. “I’ll come back for you.” Rhys begins to fight back, and Thane steps forward.

“Do not resist, _Siha._ I will be waiting for you.” He reaches out to her. “I love you.” The officers take her through a set of doors, and Thane watches the doors close, hoping that he will be able to see her again. “I will meet you at the shore.” It is said as an afterthought, and Thane remembers Joker’s presence when the pilot places a hand on the drell’s shoulder.

“She’ll make it out of this, Thane. I’m sure of it.” Joker’s words seem more of an attempt to comfort himself than anything, but Thane is grateful for the effort.

“Thank you, Joker.” It is all the drell says before making his way up the ramp.

When Thane returns to the ship, he immediately goes to Life Support. Though his possessions are few and far between, being around familiar things usually offers a small amount of comfort. Thane rushes into the Life Support room, and notices two cups sitting on the table. One was his for his tea that morning, the other belonged to Rhys. Thane gently picks up the cup, and the soft scent of coffee fills his nose. The memory of one of Rhys’ first times in the Life Support deck plays in front of Thane’s eyes. He remembers the way her fingers curled around the body of the mug, how her lips hugged the rim as she took a sip.

He sets the cup back on the table, and turns to the window opening to the now dim engine core. The emotion is tumultuous within him, and no amount of meditation can contain the chaos. He slams his fists to the window, a scream piercing the air around him. Sobs shaking his shoulders, Thane sinks to his knees, hands still on the window. He hears the door control hiss behind him, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it; Thane knows that it’s not Rhys, and it very possibly could never be Rhys again.

“Thane?” The drell turns his head at the sound of Garrus’ voice. “Are you alright?”

Thane takes a deep breath, but the tightness in his chest returns, and he falls into a coughing fit. Garrus kneels by his side, unsure of how to help.

“I’m fine, Garrus.” Thane finally manages to say when the coughing ceases. The words are sharp, curt. Thane stands from his kneeling position by the window, and Garrus follows suit.

“I just heard you…” the turian trails off, unsure of how to continue. “I figured I’d come by and make sure you were alright.”

Thane looks at Garrus, the turian clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Again, Thane is grateful to his fellow teammates for their gestures of comfort.

“Yes, Garrus, I’m well. Thank you.” Thane knows it is a lie; he is anything but well in this moment. Still, he wants to give Garrus the reassurance he is looking for so that he will leave Thane to his mourning.

“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me. You’re not in this alone.” Garrus allows his mandibles to flutter slightly, hoping Thane will understand. The drell gives a simple nod in acknowledgement, then Garrus leaves him to his grieving.

“Crew members of the Normandy,” an unfamiliar voice comes over the comm. “This ship is now grounded until further notice. Please gather any personal belongings and disembark from the vessel. Thank you.”

Thane groans, placing his head in his hands. Not only is he losing his lover today, but his home as well. Though he knows he can afford passage to many places thanks to the allowance he received from Rhys, the thought of leaving her on Earth by herself disturbs him. He doesn’t know where he will go; he has no home, no place of his own, and now no Rhys. He has nothing, except…

_Kolyat._

Thane’s son comes into his mind, and Thane immediately knows that he needs to go to the Citadel. If he cannot be with Rhys, he can focus solely on making reparations with Kolyat.

Determination lighting in his chest, Thane packs his things, knowing where he must go from here. Painful though it may be, he knows that this is what Rhys would want for him, and he cannot veer from that.

 

Rhys sits in her holding cell indignantly. She is _angry._ Angry at the Alliance for arresting her, angry at the batarians for wanting their revenge, angry at herself for turning herself in so easily. She condemns herself for not taking Thane to at least one desert before conceding to her fate. The way that Admiral Hackett spoke of the situation, he made it seem as though Rhys had more time; her arrest wasn’t an immediate issue, so why did she have to make it an immediate issue?

She stands from the cot where she had been sitting. Walking to face one of the cinderblock walls, she throws a punch into the concrete, not caring about the damage caused to her hand. In the midst of this, Rhys can’t even feel the pain. Memories of Thane rush her mind, overwhelming her.

Another punch.

Rhys thinks of Kolyat, the way that Thane looked at his son. The love that Thane harbored for his only surviving family.

Another punch.

She remembers their disucssions on the Life Support deck, and how easy it was to slip into conversation with him.

Another punch.

Their first time being intimate swirls in her mind. The mild toxin in Thane’s saliva making her see things, and in this particular case, it was an aura of pink around her, and an aura of gold around him. She had told him that the swirl of colors on his lips reminded her of her favorite kind of roses. He had vowed to give one to her. She had told him that any time he kissed her, it was like being given a rose. He kissed her again.

Another punch.

Rhys thinks about the way he looked at her on the dock as she was placed under arrest. Concern, sadness, love, all filtered through his gaze.

“Thane…” It’s all she says. The ache in her hands registers in her mind, and when she looks at her hands, they are bathed in blood. She looks at the wall, and her blood paints an eerie portrait of her pain.

Rhys sinks to her knees, her hands resting in her lap.

This isn’t facing music; this is hell.

 

“Have you heard anything, Father?” Kolyat’s voice is sincere, and Thane smiles to himself at the company of his son. Things were far from perfect between them, but much progress had been made.

“No, I haven't. Even the news reports about her have all but stopped. Any word of her is few and far between.” Thane places a fist to his mouth, covering his lips as he coughs roughly. The fits are getting worse.

_Stay alive. I'll come back for you._

Rhys’ words echoed in his mind. If he was entirely honest, it was these words that kept him going.

Kolyat gives Thane a glass of water, and the elder drell drinks gratefully.

“Thank you, my son.”

Kolyat nods in response. “Do you think Shepard is getting any of your messages?” The question is innocent enough, but the words sting Thane. He frowns.

“I doubt the messages are getting beyond the guards. I even tried using a false name, hoping the moniker would allow access, but I have the suspicion that Rhys isn't allowed any contact with anyone, no matter how innocent.”

Kolyat reaches out, placing a hand on his father's arm. “I have no doubt you are in her thoughts, Father. I know she'd be here if she could.”

Thane looks out beyond the horizon, knowing the truth in his son's words. “Thank you for your reassurance, Kolyat.” The melancholy in his heart, and the tightness in his chest, forbid Thane from saying anything more.

 

It had been three months since Rhys was arrested. They had moved her to a comfortable apartment, but the space feels empty and dull. Her appetite has vanished, she can’t find the motivation to keep up with her fitness regimens, and she is surprised that her incessant pacing hasn’t worn a groove into the floor. Thane is constantly on her mind, and she fights herself every day to convince herself that he is still alive.

Her knuckles are still scarred from the first night in her holding cell. No one had come by to check on her after she was placed into the cell, so it wasn’t until the next day that a medical professional was able to look at the cuts along her hands from the concrete. The night her hands were treated, Rhys punched the wall in her cell again, reopening the wounds. This became a habit until Anderson came to Rhys and begged her to stop.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Shepard.” He had said. Rhys only glared at him in response.

“This is the only way I retain my sanity.” She told him, holding up her bandaged extremities.

Anderson sighed, both he and Rhys reliving the time when she was facing torturous interrogation after Akuze; the Alliance had been trying her for desertion--it didn’t make sense that the rest of her unit died and she did not--but after Anderson spoke with her, he knew that she didn’t willfully make it out of there alive. He knew that Rhys wanted to die alongside her comrades.

“You didn’t do this after Akuze.” Anderson stated simply.

“That’s because the Alliance was doing this and much worse _for_ me.” She crossed her arms as carefully as she could. “Plus, this whole experience is bringing back many traumatic memories from the last time the Alliance tried to pin me for something. I’m doing the best I can, Anderson.”

The admiral stared at the commander. He understood where she was coming from, but he wasn’t sure how to help.

“You’re worried about Thane, aren’t you?” The question had been simple, but it had dug deep into Rhys’ soul. She had told Anderson of her budding relationship with Thane the last time she had been on the Citadel. It was then that she had told him of Thane’s disease, and the limited time the couple had together.

“Of course I am. He has eidetic memory, so he remembers everything in perfect detail. I don’t want his last memory of me to be my arrest. I should be by his side right now to comfort him, but instead I’m here!” Rhys clenched her fists, the stitches in her wounds pulling tighter. She released the pressure before the sutures snapped.

“Look, Shepard. I know what you’re feeling, but you’ve got to stop hurting yourself like this. That’s the last thing Thane would want.” Anderson’s poignant words rang true with Rhys, and she hasn’t punched a wall since.

Still, that exchange was ages ago, and Rhys still struggles with the thought that Thane is more than likely dead. She hadn’t heard from him since being detained; none of her messages would get by the guards.

Her nights are sleepless, and when she does sleep, it is fitful. Her dreams are riddled with memories of Thane, and she wakes up feeling as though he is most certainly dead.

Rhys clenches her fists, then releases them. Her hands are still sore, the joints stiff.

_Stay alive. I’ll come back for you._

Her words ring in her ears, and she chastises herself for getting Thane’s hopes up. Surely nothing will get her out of this.

When the Reapers arrive three months later, Rhys is almost relieved; this is the jailbreak she had been hoping for.

_Stay alive. I’m coming back for you._

 

Rhys finds it ironic that, despite the Council and the rest of the Galaxy telling her she's crazy, she is the one they call on when the Reapers arrive. Though she is glad to put up a fight, it is not necessarily for the Galaxy; any time Rhys is faced with Reaper forces, she thinks of Thane. He is the one she is fighting for.

Since being released, Rhys has been itching to see Thane, or to discover where his remains are so that she can visit. She has been trying to utilize her resources and contacts in order to find Thane, but nothing has come from her search.

_Stay alive. I'm coming back for you._

The words she yelled to him over the guards arresting her never leave her mind. Rhys vows to herself to fulfill that promise.

 

Shortly after being released, Samantha Traynor alerts Rhys to her unread messages. Each reminder stings a bit; Rhys thinks of her faithful Yeoman, Kelly Chambers, each time Traynor’s smooth voice purrs the notice. Rhys wonders often about the whereabouts of her crew since their disbanding six months ago, but chooses not to dwell on the dreaded reality of their fates.

“Thank you, Traynor. I’ll check them right now, seeing how I actually have a moment to breathe.” Rhys chuckles a bit, and Traynor exaggerates a laugh, clearly trying to fit in with the seasoned commander. “Relax, Samantha. You’re doing great.” Rhys places a hand to the recruit’s shoulder, and notices a blush swell to her cheeks. Unsure of how to respond, Rhys boards the elevator to her cabin; she prefers to read her messages there in case anything direly personal comes through, like news about Thane.

For the first time since beginning this ritual, Rhys is given her reason to continue.

His message seems strangely personal at first, since Rhys wasn’t sure who had sent the message initially. It is only after reading over his name time and again that it begins to sink in.

_We should meet before circumstances force us apart again._

Rhys reads that line with his name just below it. The butterflies that had swarmed in her belly when she was first becoming acquainted with Thane come back with full force. She closes the message, standing from her place at her desk. Rhys paces in front of her empty fish tank, still processing the fact that Thane is alive. He is _alive._ More than six months apart, the thought that surely he was dead cemented into her mind. But he is alive.

Rhys stops her pacing suddenly, knowing exactly what she needs to do. Rushing out of her cabin to the elevator, she curses the damn thing for not going any faster. Once on the Combat Information Center, she all but runs to the cockpit.

“Joker,” she sounds overzealous, but doesn’t care. “Set a course for the Citadel. Now.”

Her loyal pilot glances up at her, confusion contorting his features. EDI, seated adjacent the pilot, also looks to Shepard.

“I thought we had to--” Joker starts, but Rhys interrupts.

“Thane is alive, Joker.” It’s all she says before rushing away from the cockpit, butterflies fluttering excitedly in her belly.

 

Joker had gotten the Normandy to the Citadel quickly and efficiently. The crew is glad for shore leave, but they are all rather confused about the vivacity with which Rhys insisted this trip be done. Still, the collective consensus is to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Or, rather, a gift commander.

Rhys isn’t sure what to say or what to do at the entrance to Huerta Memorial Hospital. She had been rehearsing what she would say to her lover, what she would do when they finally reunited. Nothing seemed to be effective enough to communicate how much she loves Thane, and how much she had missed him these past months.

“Excuse me.” A salarian rushes past her, entering the hospital. Before the door closes completely, Rhys holds her hand out to stop it, and force it to open again. Trepidation, nervousness, and excitement fill her gut, and she isn’t sure if she’s ready for this. But the thought of not seeing Thane ever again when she is so close pushes her forward.

Doctors, nurses, orderlies, all manner of medical professionals fill the lobby of the hospital. They are all in a hurry to run tests, fill out paperwork, transport patients; it’s a chaotic scene in Rhys’ eyes. The chaos ceases when she turns her head to the left, and sees his sleek but strong frame practicing some of his conditioning movements. Punches, kicks, every action his body performs is just as fluid as she remembers. Rhys takes a moment to watch him, admiring him from afar. Drawn by her love for him, she starts to walk forward. He throws another punch before turning to see her.

When his eyes meet hers, she finds herself unable to breathe. The stars in his eyes glisten, and as soon as he recognizes her, her heart swells.

Thane is shocked to see Rhys in front of him. Her hair as red as ever, her eyes blue and fierce as the oceans of Kahje. Her pallor is more pale than he remembers, and she doesn’t seem to be as lively as before, but still, the woman he loves is standing right in front of him.

“Shepard, I heard Earth was under attack. I didn’t know you made it out.” He is surprised at himself; the comment is awkward, and he wants nothing more than to sweep her into his arms, and kiss her with as much passion as he could muster. But he isn’t sure how she feels about seeing him--he knows she has been through so much these past few months, and how easily her experiences could affect her love for him.

“I made you a promise, Thane. You know I’ll always come back for you.” Her words are simple, but tell him all he needs to know. He steps forward, reaching for her hands. She, too, steps toward him, but instead of reaching for his hands, she wraps her arms around his waist, placing her forehead to his. When she speaks again, her voice wavers, trying to find its way beyond the knot of tears in her throat. “I thought I’d never see you again. I was so scared, Thane.”

Her pure display of emotion pulls at his heart. Thane had honestly been feeling the same thing; he didn’t think he would ever get to see his _Siha_ again, and the thought had terrified him.

“As was I, _Siha._ I’m beyond relieved to see you. I’ve missed you so much, Rhys.” The couple stands in the lobby holding each other for a long while. They both cry, but the tears are those of relief.

After a long while, the two pull away reluctantly. Rhys asks about Thane’s condition; she had been sure that Thane had died, so seeing him alive and breathing begs the question of how long he has left.

“Every day is a gift. I feel the condition worsening each day, but the doctors cannot give me a definitive answer as to how much time I have left. My favorite doctor gave me three months to live, nine months ago. I’m learning to take each day at a time. It is a relief to have no constraints, no expectations placed on me.” He pauses. “It is a good end to a life.”

Rhys bites her lip; she has known that Thane’s life would not be the embodiment of longevity, but with the time she was incarcerated, a few short weeks is nowhere near enough to make up for the time they missed.

“Are you happy?” She asks. The question is simple, but poignant. Thane ruminates over his answer before giving it.

“I take pleasure in the smallest things, _Siha._ A breath that doesn’t send me into a coughing fit makes me happy.”

Rhys frowns. “That’s not what I asked. Are you _happy?_ ” She emphasises the word, hoping to encourage the truth from Thane.

The drell smiles slightly, pulling Rhys toward him. “Yes, _Siha,_ I am very happy.” He kisses her, the taste of her on his lips familiar and comforting. He had relived many of their kisses, and their more intimate times, in the past months, but even the eidetic memory does not compare with the reality of kissing her.

When it comes time for Rhys to leave, she is overwhelmed with disinclination. The last thing in the galaxy that Rhys wants to do is leave Thane’s side again. Thane fights tears, as he doesn’t want to see her leave--he doesn’t know if he will be blessed with her company before he voyages across the sea. Still, he knows that Rhys is the safe place for everyone in the galaxy, even though she doesn’t have a safe place of her own. He swallows his tears, vowing silently to himself that he will be her haven.

“Thank you for the visit, _Siha_. It has been magnificent to be in your company again.” The subtone in his voice rumbles, reverberating through his chest, a cue to his pleasure, and hopeful reassurance to her.

“Thank  you for reaching out to me. The visit was nowhere long enough, but it is still so good to see you. I love you.”

The two embrace, and share one last kiss.

“Stay alive. I’ll come back for you.” Rhys repeats the fateful words she told him the day she had been arrested. Thane smiles slightly, and regretfully watches Rhys’ back as she leaves the hospital.

_If the Gods are kind, we’ll see each other again._

 

Rhys goes to the Citadel as often as possible for as long as Thane is well. Each time she goes, though, she notices the decline in his health, and it breaks her heart a little more each time. Still, she goes to see him, to assure him that she loves him, and that she will always come back for him.

On one of her visits, Rhys is inundated with love for Thane, and feels the need to express this.

“Thane, I love you so much.” Tears sting her eyes, and concern furrows his brow.

“I know, _Siha_ , and I love you.” He reaches to her, placing a hand to her knee.

“No, I mean…” Rhys trails off as tears spill to her cheeks. “Loving you is like--” she struggles to find the right analogy to communicate her meaning. “Loving you is like being caught in a riptide. It’s consuming, it’s dangerous, and being in the middle of it is the most exhilarating and frightening thing ever, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it.” She stands from her chair in the hospital lobby, steps to him, and kneels in front of his seat. She places her arms on his lap, then rests her cheek on her arms. Rhys stares at Thane, drinking in the sight of him. He places a hand on her hair, sliding his palm over the shock of red. The strands are soft against his skin, and he savors the moment with especial attention.

“I don’t know what to say, _Siha_ , besides how much I love you, too.” He leans down, and kisses her forehead. The motion incites a coughing fit, and Rhys is quick to stand, ready to help however needed.

“What can I do?” She asks, holding her hands in front of her; the helpless feeling of idleness making her restless.

Thane shakes his head, reaching for her hand. “Just sit with me.” The words are said between coughs, but Rhys is glad to do so.

As soon as the spasms are gone, and Thane is able to catch some of his breath, he leans back in his chair, thankful for the air making its way to his lungs.

“I’m sorry, _Siha._ I did not see the attack coming so quickly.” Rhys rubs a thumb over the back of his hand.

“It’s alright, my love. I’m just glad you’re still breathing.” She places a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you need anything?”

He sighs to the best of his ability. “A glass of water would be refreshing.”

Rhys is quick to fulfill his request, coming back with a full glass of water. Thane accepts it gratefully.

“Thank you, _Siha._ ”

Rhys nods, but is unable to say anything more; Kolyat steps into the lobby, cordially greeting some of the hospital staff before making his way toward his ailing father.

“Well, look who’s here,” Rhys smiles, and Thane turns to look. “Good afternoon, Kolyat.”

This is the first time that Shepard has seen Kolyat since the attempted assassination nearly a year prior. Kolyat bows his head, mirroring his father’s disciplined respect.

“Hello, Shepard. My father mentioned you were freed not too long ago. It is good to see you again, though the circumstances always seem to be less than ideal when we meet.” He gives a nervous laugh, and Rhys smiles timidly.

“It’s true. Hopefully we can change that.”

“Kolyat,” Thane reaches for his son, and Kolyat gives his hand. Thane grasps it, placing a kiss to the back of his palm. “Thank you for coming, my son.” Kolyat nods.

A silence falls over the trio, and it becomes awkward after a moment. “I should go,” Rhys says in passing, releasing her grip on Thane’s hand. He, however, does not reciprocate the gesture.

“No, Rhys, please stay if you can.” Thane looks up at her, pleading with his eyes. Rhys finds herself unable to say no. She kisses his fingers, and sits on the floor next to him. Kolyat takes the chair she had been occupying previously, and Thane smiles.

“The two loves of my life, in one place at the same time. I didn’t think I would see a day like this after Irikah passed.” He closes his eyes, basking in the bliss of the moment.

 

Kolyat and Shepard stay with Thane until the Citadel dims with the artificial fall of evening. The trio shares laughs, and the two drell commit the day to memory. Rhys does, too, though her own recollection will be more flawed; such is the life of a human with less-than-perfect memory.

Kolyat and Shepard make sure that Thane retires to his room comfortably, then they leave the hospital together. The relationship is still awkward between the partner and son of the assassin, but Rhys feels more at ease after the day’s events.

“Thank you for coming to visit my father, Shepard. I know he loves you immensely, and to have your company really brightens his spirits.”

Rhys smiles. “Of course. It’s difficult to find time between all the politicking, but I do my best to be here as often as possible.”

Kolyat nods. “I understand.” The elevator gives a quiet ding, and the doors open. Kolyat turns to Shepard and holds out his hand. “This is my stop. Thank you again.”

Rhys shakes Kolyat’s hand, smiling cordially at him. “Of course. It’s my pleasure. I’ll see you again, Kolyat. Hopefully under better circumstances.”

  


PART VI

Though Rhys does her best to get back to the Citadel after the day spent with Thane and Kolyat, her diplomacy runs and errands forbid her from doing so. She is incessantly running from planet to planet to pick up a Primarch, or save that Primarch’s son, or another thing for another someone. Rhys is getting more and more frustrated by everything that is going on. Though seeing Garrus is a relief, Rhys wants nothing more than to go back to the Citadel to see Thane. Duty calls, though, and Commander Rhys Shepard must be the one to answer that call.

When everything on Tuchanka is done, Rhys finally has a moment to breathe. She takes the first opportunity to go to the Citadel. The trip there is uneventful, but when Joker tries to dock the Normandy, that’s when the problems start.

Rhys makes her way to the cockpit when she realizes that there is a problem. When she gets there, Joker is obviously distressed.

“Is everything alright?” Rhys asks, but Joker shakes his head.

“Even if there was a station malfunction, there would be backups online.” He shrugs before trying to get ahold of the docking personnel again. When Joker speaks, it sounds as if he is speaking to an old friend, and Rhys’ curiosity is piqued.

“Who the hell--?”

“Commander, it’s Thane. He says it’s important. I think  you’ll want to hear this.”

A wave of dread washes over Rhys. “Patch him through.” The commander folds her arms over her chest, and Thane’s voice comes over the comm.

“ _Siha_ , the Citadel is under attack. Cerberus troops are everywhere, and they’re in control of the docks.”

The dread Rhys felt moments ago returns with frightening vivacity. She asks the only thing that matters to her. “Are you safe?”

Thane pauses for a moment, but does not varnish the truth. “No. I needed to evade their commandos at the hospital. I’m at a Presidium storefront.”

Rhys sighs. “Did Kaidan make it out?” Though her relationship with Kaidan fell apart horribly, she still doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him, especially on her behalf.

“We got separated. He said he needed to protect the Council, I’m going to C-Sec headquarters.”

“Of course he’d want to protect the Council.” Rhys mutters under her breath. “Why C-Sec headquarters?” Rhys asks of Thane, curious about why that was where he decided he would go.

“It’s been compromised. And C-Sec’s response depends on it. As long as Cerberus is holding their headquarters, they have the station.”

Rhys clenches her jaw. She worries that Thane is in too deep; his health is already failing, and if there are as many Cerberus troops as he says, he will be facing all manner of bullets and weapons. She sighs again before answering.

“All right. Joker, get us close to C-Sec headquarters. We’ll deploy in the shuttle. Thane?”

“Yes, _Siha?_ ” He coughs a couple times, but it doesn’t turn into anything more than that.

“Stay alive. I’m coming back for you.” With that, Rhys turns, leaving the cockpit to prepare. She tells Garrus and James to gear up; they are the two that she trusts most with a mission like this.

Her two teammates ready to go, they board the shuttle, making their way to C-Sec headquarters. Along the way, Rhys watches to see if she can see Thane, though reason tells her that the search is in vain; there is no way she would be able to see him from the shuttle. Still, she can’t help but look.

When Cortez brings the shuttle close to C-Sec, Rhys scans the area. C-Sec agents shoot at Cerberus troops, and bullets are flying every direction. Looking more closely at the scene, she again tries to spot Thane, but to no avail. Shepard does see Commander Bailey, and watches in horror as he is shot by a Cerberus soldier.

“All right, people, we’re coming in hot! Get to cover!” Rhys manages to yell this to her comrades, and they readily agree before jumping out of the shuttle.

Within minutes, the Cerberus troops are defeated, but not without C-Sec casualties. Rhys goes to Commander Bailey, and he is slumped against the wall. He groans in pain.

“Shepard, I saw those Cerberus troops on you. I thought you were done for.”

Rhys gives a sarcastic chuckle. “Come on, Bailey, you know I’m tougher to kill than that.” He tries to laugh, but ends up grimacing in pain. “What are you doing here, Bailey?” Rhys asks, kneeling next to him.

“I’m trying to take back the headquarters. Cerberus took it with the first push. We’ve got to kick them out of here; everyone in C-Sec is flying blind without the network.”

Shepard goes to help Bailey to his feet, and Garrus asks how bad the situation is. “Do you know if the Councillors are alive?” Garrus asks, worry lilting his voice.

Once Bailey is to his feet, he answers. “They split up. I’ll know more if I can get to the terminal inside.”

“Can you get us in?” Rhys hates to ask an injured man for help--she knows he must be in pain, but he is handling it with remarkable serenity. Bailey nods, turning to face the door.

“I’ll get the door, if I’m not interrupted by a bullet this time.”

As soon as the doors are open, the quartet makes their way through headquarters, Shepard, Garrus, and Vega ready to fire their weapons if any Cerberus forces happen to remain. Luckily, it is only the four. Bailey makes his way to a terminal, and sits down.

“Here we go, C-Sec network access. Courtesy of Cerberus.” He starts to fidget with the terminal’s controls, and Rhys cannot quell her curiosity.

“How is that going to help?” She sounds far more crass than she anticipates, but the question still applies.

“Cerberus has control of the main channels, but I can set up a new one. Without it, our people have no plan, and no chance.”

Rhys glances to the Commander. “Fair enough.”

“Hello…” Commander Bailey says to the terminal, and Rhys is standing next to him within seconds.

“What have you got?” Rhys admits that she sounds a bit overzealous, but she is still thinking about Thane; it had been a while since they had heard anything from him, and she is starting to get worried.

“A warning from Councilor Valern.” Rhys’ hopes are dashed. Bailey continues. “He’s supposed to be here, meeting with the executor. ‘Be on guard--the likelihood of betrayal from within is high.’ Not much else. But if he’s inside…” Bailey trails off, looking up at Rhys, and they share a knowing glance.

“Why would Valern be meeting with the executor? That doesn’t make sense.” Rhys holsters her gun.

“Usually that means someone big is about to be prosecuted. I guess that someone had Cerberus friends.” Bailey shrugs.

Garrus turns to face Shepard and Bailey. “The Councillor mentioned Udina, but that’s insane. Does he even have this kind of pull?”

“The person who would have that answer is the Councilor.” Bailey winces in pain, leaning back in the chair.

“Are you alright?” Rhys asks, thinking that the question is completely arbitrary, but not sure how else to acknowledge Bailey’s pain.

“Not really, but I’ll get us through this.” He gives a nod to Rhys, and she accepts his response.

“One Councilor is better than none. Where am I headed?” Rhys feels rather idiotic asking the question, but she is so unfamiliar with the C-Sec office that the most efficient way to get to the Councilor is by asking for direction.

“He could be in the Executor’s office,” Garrus remarks, “it’s a fairly defensible position.”

“I’m on it.” Rhys turns to go, determination firing a spring into her step.

“Just a second--” Commander Bailey interjects. Rhys turns to face him, slightly disgruntled at his delay. “There. Now we can communicate by omni-tool. Go.”

Rhys nods, again turning to leave, this time not looking back.

“Thane, did you hear all that?” Rhys begs any deities that exist to let him hear her. Moments after her inquiry, her lover responds, his breath erratic and short, giving Rhys more cause to worry.

“Yes. I’m nearing the building, but running is difficult. I’ll try to get to you.”

Rhys runs as quickly as she can, trying to catch up to the Salarian Councilor before he is harmed. She knows Thane is running, too, and she worries for his health; the doctors have warned that even brisk walking can further Thane’s condition, and Rhys doesn’t want her lover to pass before his time.

Garrus punches the control for the door to the executor’s office, and it opens. Carcasses of salarian body guards and the executor himself are strewn about the room, and Rhys notices a first aid kit on the east wall of the office. These people are too far gone, though, not even the best doctor could bring them back.

Shepard updates Commander Bailey via her omni-tool, and pushes farther into the office. The Salarian Councilor shows himself, and seems to be unharmed.

“Councilor, are you hurt?” The Councilor shakes his head in response to Rhys’ question. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. Let’s get you out of here.”

As Rhys finishes this statement, a blur of black drops from the ceiling, placing himself behind the Councilor, blocking her shot.

“Shepard, he’s trying to kill us!” Valern says, his voice raspy with fear.

Shepard eyes the assassin, glaring at him. Surely, if looks alone could kill a man, this man would be dead a few times over. Alas, such is not the way of the world. “That remains to be seen.”

Valern shakes his head slightly. “I mean Udina! He is staging a coup to hand the other councilors to Cerberus!” Rhys tucks her chin to her chest. She always knew that Udina was evil, and this only proves it.

“Damn it,” she whispers under her breath. Rhys moves to the left of the Councilor, clearing her shot. Garrus and Vega move in behind her. “Three on one, pal, it’s over.” The trio all has their guns pointed at the assassin, ready to shoot.

“No, now it’s fun.” The assassin responds. He turns at the sound of a gun loading next to his head, and Thane’s arm extends from the weapon. Rhys’ heart speeds up a bit at the sight of him, still as beautiful as the day she saw him, only now, they have a bond that cannot be explained.

The assassin turns to see Thane, and the two duel, Thane throwing punches, moving with iridescent agility. His opponent had clearly mastered melee combat from a young age, and he too, moved with grace, agility, and speed. Rhys still has her gun armed and trained on the assassin, but she doesn’t take a shot just yet; Thane and his opponent are fighting in a way akin to dancing, each so close to the other. If Rhys were to fire, she fears she would hit Thane. So, she waits.

Thane leaps into the air, clearly attempting to land a knockout hit to the one Rhys would come to know as Kai Leng. Leng angles his blade, and Thane lands on it, the blade squishing through his flesh. With violence, the Cerberus assassin pulls his sword from Shepard’s lover, Thane falling to the ground in a pool of crimson blood.

“Thane!” Kai Leng starts running, and Rhys follows him, shooting all the while. “You son of a--” The shuttle atop which Kai Leng stands is soon out of sight, and Rhys turns to see Thane. He had managed to walk toward Rhys, but she can see his energy is fading fast. Garrus and Vega run to the couple.

“Vega, go find the Councilors. Stop Udina. I’ll catch up with you.” Rhys looks at her lieutenant with tears stinging her eyes. Vega nods, then follows her order dutifully. “Garrus, I saw a first aid kit on the east wall of the executor’s office--” The turian is off without another word. Rhys places her hand to Thane’s abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Siha, I--” Thane starts, but Rhys stops him with a kiss.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re not going to leave like this. It’s not supposed to happen this way. Remember? You promised you wouldn’t leave before your time, and it’s not your time yet. Thane, please!” The tears are pouring over her face shamelessly, now, and Thane puts his left hand to her cheek. Rhys leans into his palm.

“Rhys Phoenix Shepard, I love you. If all else whispers back to the tide, know that for fact.”

Garrus returns with the first aid supplies, and starts tearing it open, giving Rhys as much gauze as he can. Frantically, Rhys replaces her hands with the gauze, knowing that the cloth will help stop the bleeding.

“Thane, stay with me,” Rhys begs, as Garrus hands her a roll of gauze that the commander uses to wrap around the drell’s chest.

Thane’s eyes are fluttering, but Rhys can hear the resemblance of a purr coming from his throat. She recognizes this as him offering reassurance, as he had done this many times before.

One hand still placed to his wound, Rhys cups the other around his face, lifting his head, giving her the chance to look into his eyes, hopefully not for the last time. “Thane, I love you so much.”

With the remnants of his consciousness, Thane smiles at her. His breath becomes more ragged. “I… love… you.” His head sinks with his loss of consciousness, and Rhys tries to wake him. At that moment, medical staff burst through the doorway, and get Thane onto a stretcher. Rhys is baffled.

“How did they--?” She turns her head toward Garrus, asking with her eyes if he knew how the medical staff found them.

“When you asked me to get the first aid kit, I contacted Huerta Memorial Hospital. They sent a team down as soon as they could.”

Rhys and Garrus watch as the medics roll Thane away on the gurney. Thane wakes up just before they’re out of sight, and reaches out to Rhys weakly. She offers a hand, and blows a kiss to him. She looks down at her hands, and realizes with horror that they are stained with her lover’s blood. She thinks of Lady Macbeth, and suddenly thinks that she knows exactly how Lady Macbeth feels. _Out, damned spot!_

“Come on, Rhys, we need to catch up with Vega.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Rhys picks up her gun, and runs after Vega, the only thing on her mind the sweet revenge that will come from killing the bastard who ran his sword through her lover.

 

Rhys is disappointed that Udina allowed his greed to get the better of him. She is relieved, however, that she didn’t have to shoot Kaidan. It took more convincing to open his eyes than she would have liked, but he ended up being the one to pull the trigger on Udina.

She checks in with Bailey, making sure he’s alright, before sending Garrus and Vega back to the Normandy. Rhys knows she needs to go to Huerta Memorial; Thane had been to surgery, but the prognosis isn’t good.

Fighting tears the whole way up, she makes her way to the hospital. She goes to a doctor that doesn’t seem to be too busy, and asks him about Thane. When the doctor mentions that they don’t have a drell under that name, she panics for a moment.

“Please, he’s a regular patient here. Tannor Nuara, maybe? That’s a name he goes by.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I see.” The doctor sighs. “The surgeons were able to repair most of the trauma, but Mr., um, Krios, is in the final stages of Kepral’s Syndrome. At its worst, Kepral’s Syndrome interferes with his blood’s ability to carry oxygen. And he lost a lot. Now, they’ve given him transfusions, but frankly, there was a very limited supply of drell blood on the Citadel.”

Rhys lets her words fall from her lips like a flood. “I’ll get more. Give me his blood type.” She is aware of the desperation in her voice, but doesn’t much care. The doctor shakes his head.

“That’s not going to work. Only one other drell on the station is a match, and that drell is with him now. We did all we could to help him through surgery, but his body can’t replace lost blood with new cells. Too much shock. His son, Kolyat, he’s in there now, saying his goodbyes. You might want to say yours.” With that, the doctor rushes away to his other duties.

Rhys turns to go into Thane’s room. Kolyat stands over his father, his features drawn by sadness. Thane lies still on the bed, torso bare, legs covered with the blanket. He has a scar running along the middle of his chest with fresh stitches along the length of it. Rhys entwines her hand with Thane’s as gently as possible, lifting his hand to her lips.

“Shepard,” Kolyat says simply. “I came to donate blood, and, well…” He trails off, pursing his lips. “He asked me to remove his oxygen mask so he could--” his voice wavers-- “be comfortable. I don’t think it will be very long.”

Rhys gives a nod, placing a hand to Kolyat’s shoulder. “You know, your father helped me save a lot of lives. I love him so much for so many reasons. I’d like to be here. Is that alright with you?” Already, the tears are swelling in her eyes.

“Of course.” Kolyat nods gently.

“ _Siha_ , I’m afraid I picked a bad time to leave.” Thane rasps, his voice strained. For the first time since they met, Thane’s voice is less musical to Rhys, but the words are no less elegant.

“You could never disappoint me, Thane. Not even now.” Using her free hand, she places a palm to his cheek, and kisses his forehead softly. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of her, thermal clips, a hint of sweat, and the lemon and peppermint oil she uses to freshen up. His subtone purrs in his throat.

“Such pleasant things from your lips.” Her perfumed oil irritates his lungs enough to incite a cough. It takes him a moment, but he recuperates as much as he is able. “Excuse me. Breathing is difficult.”

Rhys sits on the bed, his hand still in hers. “No need to be excused, my love.” She lightly traces her fingers along the skin on the back of his hand, doing her best to comfort and reassure him.

“ _Siha_ , it will be soon. I need to know if the Councilor survived.”

Kolyat is the first to speak. “Yes, father, three survived thanks to you and Shepard. Udina, he instigated it. He is dead.”  

Thane tries to breathe a sigh of relief, but the tightness in his chest forbids him from doing so.

“There is something I must do before it gets worse. I must…” Thane is interrupted by his own coughing yet again, and Rhys finds her tears spilling from her cheeks. She returns a hand to his cheek, trying to calm him.

“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand--” More coughing. Thane curses himself silently for not being able to speak these words. He has faith in his beliefs, that the gods will forgive him for his wrongdoings, but Rhys… He wants Rhys to be with him at the shore for eternity once her time comes. Thane squeezes her hand, wanting so much to be able to continue the prayer.

Kolyat reverently folds his hands, and continues for his father. “Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit.”

As soon as Thane is able to breathe slightly, he looks at his son lovingly. “Kolyat, you speak as the priests do. You have been spending time with them?” Kolyat nods, and Rhys is in awe of the pride in Thane’s eyes. She loves how much he loves his son.

Kolyat makes his way to Rhys, pulling a small book from his pocket. “I brought a prayer book. Rhys, would you care to join me?” The commander looks at her lover’s son, surprised at his use of her first name, but admiring him for using it; Thane must have told him that being solely by her last name or rank has always been a mild annoyance.

Rhys gives a small nod to Kolyat in response, standing from her spot on the bed to show respect for Thane’s beliefs, but she never let go of his hand.

“Kalahira, this one’s heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention.”

Rhys reads where Kolyat has left off, and continues, glancing to Thane every few words. “Guide this one to where the traveller never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one, Kalahira, and she will be a companion to you as she was to me.”

With the last utterance of these words, Thane finally feels at peace. He knows that it is selfish of him to want her with him for all of eternity, but Rhys has done all she can to be with him when her life ends, and that brings him the release he needs. Thane breathes his last, his grip on Rhys’ hand going limp. Rhys allows her features to contort from her overwhelming emotion for a moment, before swallowing the knot of tears in her throat. She reaches to his face, closing his eyes for the last time.

She ruminates over the prayer she just shared with Kolyat, and only now realizes that something doesn’t quite make sense.

“Kolyat, why did the last verse say ‘she’?”

The young drell blinks, sighing before responding. “The prayer was not for him, Rhys. He has already asked for forgiveness for the lives he has taken. His wish was for you.”

Rhys leans into Thane, placing one last kiss to his lips. “Goodbye, Thane. Meet you across the sea.”

With that, Rhys leaves the hospital room. She goes to the lobby, and sits where she used to sit with Thane. She stares over the horizon, incredulity threatening to overwhelm her. Rhys isn’t sure how long she had been sitting there when Kolyat passed through the lobby. He stops to say goodbye to Rhys.

“Thank you for being here, Rhys. I know your presence gave him peace.”

Rhys pulls Kolyat into a hug, unsure of the appropriateness of the gesture, but figuring they both need some palpable comfort.

“Thank you for letting me share that moment with you. Again, I’m sorry we only ever seem to meet in less than ideal circumstances. We should change that.” Rhys is making a genuine effort to encourage a relationship with Kolyat, but knows they are both too emotionally drained for anything beyond pleasantries.

The drell bids goodnight to Rhys, and she makes her way back to the Normandy. Kaidan is waiting near the airlock, bombarding the compromised commander with words. The only important thing he asks is whether he can come back aboard the Normandy, and Rhys agrees quickly. As soon as she is surrounded in the familiarity of the Normandy, she makes her way directly to her cabin. Traynor alerts Rhys of unread messages, but she waves the notice away. Garrus watches Rhys make her way to the elevator, and tries to intercept with questions about Rhys’ well-being, but Rhys waves that away, too.

As soon as Rhys is in her cabin, she changes into her pajamas, and goes straight to bed, crying herself to sleep for the first time in a long time.

 

 

PART VII

It had been a few weeks since Thane’s death. Rhys still plays the hero of the galaxy, doing everything she possibly can to get everyone to be united. She hasn’t been sleeping, and her entire crew is picking up on her exhaustion. No one dares to say anything about it, though, because they fear they’ll only upset her if they ask.

More often than not, Rhys finds herself in the Battery with Garrus. Much like during their fight against the Collectors, the two don’t often converse, they just bask in the other’s company. There comes a time, Rhys realizes, when words don’t help anymore. Rhys doesn’t ask about Garrus’ family, and Garrus doesn’t ask about Thane. They both know that if there is something the other needs, they are free to speak it, but they don’t need to fill empty space with empty words. Both the commander and the turian advisor are too exhausted for such efforts.

The night after Thessia, Rhys goes to her cabin. She finally checks her unread messages, discarding all the strange advertisements that still somehow show up in her inbox. There is one she nearly discards, but chooses to click on it anyway. The subject is “Never lose hope,” and Rhys is sure that is another spam email.

As soon as she sees the first word, she is so glad she didn’t discard the email. She hears the word echo in her mind with his voice.

_Siha._

She reads the memo over and over, tears spilling onto her cheeks. The last line breaks her heart to pieces.

_I will await you across the sea._

Rhys thinks upon what it must have been like for Thane to write such a poignant letter. She’s not altogether sure how it got to her, but she is incredibly grateful that he still seems to be looking out for her, even from beyond the grave.

Her emotions roil within her. Like the raging sea, the cocktail of feelings within her chest throws her around like the riptide she referenced when articulating her love for Thane.

She stands from her desk, walking to the empty aquarium. Rhys stares into the water for a moment before her composure finally breaks. A scream tearing from her mouth, she uses her fists to shatter the glass. The water spills from the broken tank, and Rhys continues to tear away the glass barrier, not bothered by the damage done to her hands. Weeks of being numb, of feeling nothing, had finally gotten the better of her; she wants to feel _something,_ even if it’s pain.

Once the fish tank is destroyed, she goes to the glass casing where her model ship collection is displayed. Again, screaming at the top of her lungs, Rhys punches the glass, breaking it. Without thinking, she picks up a large shard, lifting it above her head. Before she does anything more impulsive, she slides the shard through her palm, cutting a deep groove into her flesh. Watching the blood spill from her own hands is some kind of terrible catharsis, the pain in her hands a visceral epitome of her emotions since losing Thane.

Rhys sinks to her knees, the glass piece still in her hand. She weeps for herself, for Thane, for the lives she hasn’t been able to save since the Reapers invaded, for her family.

There is frantic knocking at the door, and Rhys ignores it. The door eventually slides open, and Garrus bursts into the cabin, witnessing the manifestation of Rhys’ inner turmoil. Seeing the commander in the middle of the floor, he kneels beside her, sweeping her into an embrace. He lets her cry, not sure what to say or how to say it. For a long while, Garrus just holds Rhys.

After a while, Rhys stops her crying, but cannot find the energy to move from her place on the floor, leaning into Garrus’ chest. He keeps his arms around her, not wanting to disturb her. Joker comes to the cabin, having heard Rhys’ screams from the cockpit, but not being able to get to her cabin sooner because he had been making sure the Normandy is in a safe part of space where the Reapers wouldn’t be a threat.

“Oh my God. Rhys?” Joker limps into the cabin, slowly making his way to where the commander and her best friend are on the floor. “What happened to your hands?” The blood all over her hands had dried mostly, but the sight is still gruesome.

Rhys uses just her eyes to look up at him, but her mouth is dry, and her throat is hoarse, forbidding her from speaking. Garrus is able to answer for her.

“Human hands do not stand up well to tearing down glass aquariums.” With Garrus’ answer, she feels the rumble of his subvocals in his chest, and closes her eyes, remembering how Thane’s chest used to reverberate in much the same way.

Joker nods simply. “Well, you’re not wrong about that. We should get you cleaned up, Rhys.” He offers a hand. “Come on.”

Garrus shifts, pulling away from her, but still supporting her with his arms. Rhys slowly reaches for Joker’s hand, and being careful not to pull too hard, uses his assistance to stand. Joker and Garrus escort her to the med bay, where Doctor Chakwas is filling out paperwork.

“Doctor Chakwas?” Joker steps into the med bay, followed by Rhys, then Garrus. The turian has his arm around Rhys’ waist, supporting her. “Rhys needs you to look at her hands. If you don’t mind.” Joker steps to the side, allowing Garrus to lead Rhys to the physician.

Doctor Chakwas furrows her brow, confused by the situation. Joker lifts Rhys’ hands to the doctor’s view, and Chakwas gasps, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Oh, Shepard. What happened?” The doctor looks to the commander’s eyes, but they are glazed, and she is mentally not present. Again, Garrus answers for her.

“She tore out the aquarium and model ship display in her cabin. With her bare hands.” Garrus sits Rhys down on one of the beds, and Doctor Chakwas puts some gloves on. She prepares a suture tray, making sure to equip herself with extra antiseptic.

“Thank you for bringing her down, gentlemen. I can take care of her from here.” Doctor Chakwas nods to the pilot, and the sniper.

“Actually, I’d prefer to stay.” Joker admits, shifting his weight. Garrus nods.

“I’m not going anywhere.” The turian folds his arms over his chest, a subtle gesture of defiance.

Doctor Chakwas smiles slightly at the duo, undyingly loyal to their commander. “Alright. Just give me a few moments to stitch up these cuts.”

As Doctor Chakwas stitches up the fresh wounds on Rhys’s hands, she notices the scars along her knuckles. As inappropriate as it may sound, the physician had been very familiar with Rhys’ scars during their time together. Rhys was shot so often that her marred flesh became familiar to Doctor Chakwas. Rhys still has scarring along the side of her face from the fire she had been in back on Zorya the better part of a year ago. These scars on the back of Rhys’ hands were unfamiliar.

“Where did these scars come from, Rhys?” Chakwas asks.

Rhys blinks before comprehending what the doctor had said. “The first few nights in my holding cell, I had a boxing match with the concrete walls. The walls won.”

Chakwas sighs. “Rhys, you have to be careful.” It is a simple sentence, but the concern in the doctor’s voice is genuine.

For the moment, all Rhys can do is nod.

Once Rhys’ hands are stitched up, Garrus and Joker make sure she gets back to her cabin safely, and they seat her on the bed while they clean up the glass. As the exhaustion begins to wash over her, she lies down on the bed, wanting to rest a moment. Within minutes, she is fast asleep.

“Garrus, look.” Joker whispers, pointing to Rhys sleeping atop her blankets, still in her uniform.

Garrus sighs. “It’s good that she’s getting some sleep. Let’s just finish getting this glass off the floor, then we’ll go.”

Joker nods. There is silence in the room for a moment, and finally, Joker’s curiosity draws a question from him. “Do you know what happened? How this all started?”

Garrus shakes his head. “I heard a scream from the battery, and I didn’t think anything of it for a minute. I thought that one of the crewmembers was showing someone else a vid or something. But when I heard a crash, that’s when I came up. Her door was locked, I almost had to break it down to get in. When I got in, I just saw her on the floor with her hands covered in blood, she was holding onto a piece of glass, kneeling on the floor, crying.” He pauses. “I didn’t know what else to do except hold her, and I don’t even think I should have. I doubt it helped…” The turian casts his eyes to the floor, almost guilty for his actions.

Joker puts a hand on the turian’s shoulder. “I don’t know if you know, but human nervous systems are calmed by physical touch. The tighter someone is held during a breakdown, the better chance they have of healing. I know it’s odd, but I have no doubt Rhys would be worse off if not for you.” Joker smiles at Garrus, hoping he has given some reassurance to the turian. Garrus’ mandibles flutter.

“Thanks, Joker. I think we’ve got all the glass pieces. Let’s get out of here, let her sleep.”

Joker nods, looking back to Rhys. “Yeah, okay.”

The two leave their broken commander to her fitful sleep.

 

PART VIII

After her breakdown, Rhys has kept her composure rather well. The scars on her hands are a daily reminder of her pain, and she places pressure to the scars when her emotions try to get the better of her. It’s less than ideal, but it works for the immediate purpose.

She had held a funeral for Thane in the apartment Anderson had left her; it seemed only appropriate to give homage to the man she loved so diligently. The service was nice, and she was glad that so many of her and Thane’s mutual comrades were able to attend. Seeing Kolyat again was good for Rhys; she sees so much of Thane in his son, and that slightly soothes the hurt of his passing.

It is the night before the final onslaught to defeat the Reapers. Rhys is beyond exhausted, but so relieved that it is nearly over. She sits at her desk to take care of a few municipal things, like her last will and testament; she knows that there is a very small chance she will survive, and she is at peace with that.

Her first letter is about dividing her resources.

_To whom it may concern,_

_Lieutenant Commander Rhys Phoenix Shepard wishes to leave all of her resources to her teammates. But first and foremost, take ten percent of all resources and deliver them to Kolyat Krios.  Divide any remaining resources equally between Garrus Vakarian, Jeff “Joker” Moreau, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, James Vega, Kaidan Alenko, Jack, Dr. Liara T’Soni, and Dr. Karin Chakwas._

_Any material possessions, give to Dr. Liara T’Soni._

_The SSV Normandy, my trusted vessel of many years, place in the command of Garrus Vakarian. If he does not wish to command the Normandy, give the command to Tali’Zorah vas Normandy._

_As for my remains if they are found, please cremate my remains, and scatter them on Mindoir._

_Please, no large statues of me. No fancy memorial services, funerals, wakes, anything like that. Let me go in peace._

_Thank you for abiding my wishes._

_Lieutenant Commander Rhys Phoenix Shepard._

 

With that letter written and squared away, Rhys starts on another.

 

_Garrus,_

_If you’re reading this, I am dead, and the command of the Normandy is in your hands. I understand completely if you’d rather not have command of her, and in that case, I’ve asked for Tali to take over the ship. Just please, for the love of all that is good, don’t let her sit and rust. She’s too good a ship to lose._

_You’ve been my best friend for years. I wouldn’t be alive if not for you. The night I tore the aquarium apart, I could have done so much more damage to myself than I did, and I probably would have if you hadn’t burst through the door. Terrible segue, but feel free to replace the glass in the aquarium and model ship display. I haven’t bothered to, as you know, because I don’t really trust myself with breakable surfaces. Ha._

_Thank you for always looking out for me, Garrus. You’ve given me the best years of my life, and you have taught me so much about loyalty, what it means to be a true friend. Don’t forget that._

_Take care of the crew for me, I know they’ll look up to you as the commander of the Normandy. Don’t forget to take care of yourself._

_There’s no Shepard without Vakarian._

_Goodbye, Garrus._

 

_Rhys._

 

The commander fights tears, feeling the weight of her words. She swallows the tears, taking out another piece of paper, this time for another trusted friend.

 

_Liara,_

_I’m leaving all my material possessions to you. I trust you with them, though I don’t have anything valuable. Any pictures of Thane, or me and Thane together, please give back to Kolyat. I have a feeling he would want them. If he doesn’t want to take them, that’s fine. You can keep them if you feel so compelled._

_Please don’t let anything of mine go to a museum. The last thing I want is for random people to be staring at my possessions. That makes me feel really creepy. The only thing I’d be okay having in a museum is my old N7 helmet, the one I died in...the first time. Funny, I never thought I’d be writing about dying again._

_That’s another thing. I so appreciate you giving my body to Cerberus the first time, but this time, please just let me go. I miss Thane, Liara, and I want to be with him more than anything. So please, let this be the last adventure we have. I’m tired._

_Thank you for never leaving my side throughout everything. Quite literally, I wouldn’t be alive if not for you. I’m not sure why you put so much effort in finding me, letting Cerberus rebuild me, but if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Thane. I love you for giving me that chance._

_Look out for Garrus, won’t you? I’ve asked him to look out for the crew, but I know he’ll do so valiantly, without taking care of himself. Keep an eye on him for me._

_Keep up the good work, Liara._

 

_Rhys._

 

She folds the third letter, setting it next to the others on her desk. She doesn’t sleep well that night, but it’s alright. She’ll be getting plenty of sleep after today.

As soon as she is dressed, she goes to the cockpit. “Joker,” she greets. The pilot turns to look up at her, and smiles.

“Commander.” He tips his hat to her.

“I have a few letters in my cabin about what I want done with my things if I die today. Will you make sure they get to the right hands?” She smiles slightly, and it feels more genuine now than it has in a long time. Joker’s face falls.

“Sure, but I hope I don’t have to.” Joker stands from his seat, facing Rhys squarely. He lifts his hand in a disciplined salute. “Commander, it has been an honor serving with you.” Tears sting his eyes; the thought of her dying again breaks his heart.

Rhys returns the salute. “Lieutenant Moreau, the honor has been all mine.” She finishes the salute, then pulls Joker into a hug, being careful to not squeeze too hard so she doesn’t break his ribs. When she pulls away, Joker has a solitary tear on his cheek, and she wipes it away tenderly. “Keep your chin up, Joker. We need you. I need you.” She kisses his cheek softly, now fighting tears herself. “Thank you for everything. Life’s better with you in it.”

EDI watches the exchange, the tenderness between them pulling at something within her. She knows that the kiss on Joker’s cheek is not one of romance, but of thanks. Shepard looks back to EDI, smile tilting her lips. “Take care of him, EDI.”

EDI dips her head. “Of course, Shepard.”

“Okay, Joker, let’s do this.” The pilot takes his seat, and guides the Normandy through the relay to get to Earth.

 

 

Rhys looks at the three options in front of her. She is on the verge of death, but knows she can’t give up just yet. The end is nigh, and it’s up to her to end this once and for all.

Control, the option the Illusive Man thought was so great, only ended up getting him killed. He didn’t really control the Reapers, the Reapers controlled him, and Rhys doesn’t trust the Catalyst in saying that the same wouldn’t happen to her.

Synthesis, altering the DNA of every being in the galaxy. Though synthetic life would not be destroyed, Rhys cannot fathom the idea of forcing every living thing in the galaxy to be fused with synthetic or organic life.

Destroy, basically a genocide of all synthetics, including Reapers. But Rhys had worked so hard to get the Quarians and Geth to work together. Killing all synthetic life seems like a betrayal to the Quarians, to the Geth, and to Joker; EDI would be killed, too, and Rhys doesn’t want Joker to go through the pain she went through after losing Thane.

The best option is destroy. Rhys remembers vaguely that Tali had done a backup of EDI’s personality, and would be able to restore her if anything had happened. As for the Geth, Rhys thinks of Legion, and the question that started the war between Quarians and Geth in the first place.

_Does this unit have a soul?_

“I’m sorry, Legion.” Tears well in Rhys’ eyes as she pulls her pistol from her holster. She shoots at the Destroy engine, apologizing to Legion and Joker simultaneously.

Images of Anderson, EDI, and Thane flash in Rhys’ mind. As the engine starts to spark, Rhys has only thought.

_I’m coming, Thane. You better be waiting at that shore._

The engine explodes, and Rhys’ vision tunnels before all she sees is black.

 

PART IX

Joker guides the Normandy as fluidly as possible from the wave that destroyed the mass relays. EDI’s body lies lifeless next to him, but he doesn’t have the time to check her well-being at the moment. As soon as the Normandy lands on an unfamiliar planet, Joker leaves his seat, going to EDI. He tries everything he can to wake her, but nothing happens. Joker is sure that it has something to do with the destruction of the Reapers, but he’s not entirely sure what. He fights a wave of anger that suddenly boils within him, and it’s directed at Shepard. Why would Shepard do something like this to him? After all they had been through, it didn’t make sense.

Joker takes a few days to process the fact that Rhys wouldn’t have willingly killed EDI. He knows that likely, Shepard didn’t have another choice. Though it is difficult, he finds forgiveness for her.

He fulfills his last promise to Rhys, and makes sure the crew gets the letters about her wishes. Garrus accepts command of the Normandy, and Liara accepts the responsibility of taking care of Shepard’s things.

His first act as the commander of the Normandy is getting the crew together in front of the memorial wall. He holds the plaque with her name on it; Commander Rhys Phoenix Shepard. Garrus feels his mandibles lower as he runs a talon over her name. He takes a deep breath, then places the plaque to the wall. Some of the crew cries, most just stand in silence.

“Goodbye, Shepard. Say hi to Thane for us.” It’s all Garrus says before dismissing the rest of the crew.

 

 

Rhys opens her eyes, cursing herself for staying alive. The soft sound of waves lapping at a shore rocks her to more alertness. She stands from where she had been lying on the sand, and looks around. She isn’t wearing her armor anymore, but a simple, white, linen dress. She looks over her hands, and can’t find a single scar. She places a palm to the side of her face, and her skin is smooth--any evidence of her burns is gone.

She looks around at the vastness of the landscape around her, especially out to the ocean. The scene is remarkably peaceful, but she feels a slice of disappointment; she wasn’t supposed to be alone here.

A voice cuts through the silence, and Rhys grins as soon as the word drops from his lips.

“ _Siha._ ”

 

 

FIN.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
